Siren Song
by Vanillasiren
Summary: What if Puck wasn't the only one of Oberon's Children banished from Avalon? What if another wayward "child" made her way to Manhattan? What would that mean for the Xanatos family, the Gargoyle clan, and Puck himself? Read to find out.
1. Chapter 1

Siren Song

Author's Note: This story is relies on a few key pieces of information. One is the fact that, of all of Oberon's Children, apparently only two refused to return to Avalon: Puck and the Banshee. Relating to that, I have read the following, supposedly provided by series creator Greg Weisman: that the Banshee was the one who warned Puck that the time of the Gathering was at hand. Also, this story is set sometime after the end of season 2, and pretty much ignores the existence of the Goliath Chronicles (hey, if the show creator does it, why shouldn't I?).

Chapter 1: Surprises

*"My voice can seduce or mesmerize … or bring pain beyond imagining." – _The_ _Banshee, from "The Hound of Ulster"_*

It was the voice. It was always the voice.

No matter what guise she donned, no matter how she tried to cover it – changing cadence, accent, pitch, volume, tone, depth – underneath, her true voice was there. There was simply a quality to it, a call, an echo, something that mortals' ears were not attuned to hear – that is, unless she wished him to listen. He would recognize that voice, from a whisper to a scream, no matter what.

So when, in his own guise, he heard the lilting Irish voice of the young woman talking to David Xanatos, he was not fooled by her human appearance.

But then, he supposed she hadn't really meant to fool him at that. For one thing, he'd seen this particular costume of hers before. True, she'd changed it up a bit; the reddish hair was longer, and the clothes quite different; overall, it was a more demure appearance then the rather trendy, punkish look she'd sported when he'd last seen her. Still, she couldn't have been more obvious, especially to him. She hadn't even bothered changing the name.

"I'm sorry, Miss –"

"O'Riordan. Molly O'Riordan."

"Miss O'Riordan. I appreciate you returning the toy." And indeed, he saw that "Molly" was holding a small stuffed bear. He knew instantly who and what she truly was; what he didn't understand was how she could possibly be here.

"It's his favorite you know," Xanatos was telling her. "He takes it everywhere. I didn't even realize he'd dropped it."

She handed the stuffed animal to him and smiled. "Well then, I'm glad I caught up with you. It would be a shame for your angel boy to lose his favorite plaything." Her gaze shifted to "Owen" as he approached them, and the smile became almost a smirk.

Catching sight of Owen, Xanatos turned, and was about to introduce them, but the look on his assistant's face made him stop short. Owen looked surprised – shocked actually. He didn't normally display emotion so openly, so that alone was cause for concern. Then he saw Owen's eyes narrow, and suddenly he seemed rather intrigued, almost as if he were sizing up a worthy adversary across a chess board. He looked over at the woman called Molly and saw she wore a similar expression.

Owen clasped his shoulder. "A word, sir."

Xanatos glanced at Molly warily. _Now what?_ "Of course. Please, excuse us." She nodded, her smile widening slightly, and they retreated, Xanatos pushing the stroller which contained his son, who had slept peacefully throughout. He paused for a moment, leaning down to check on the boy, and Owen waited respectfully, as he always did. After assuring himself that his son was safe, at least for the moment, he straightened up and looked at Owen expectantly.

"Well?"

"That woman is not what she appears."

"Yes, I gathered that much from your reaction." The annoyance in his tone was evident. "Could you be more specific?"

Owen paused, trying to come up with the simplest explanation. "She … is like me." Xanatos's eyes widened.

"You mean … she's a child of Oberon?" Owen nodded. "But how? I thought everyone except for you had to stay in Avalon, unless … this isn't another alias of Titania, is it?" The very thought made him scowl.

"Most certainly not, sir. She is called the Banshee."

"Wait. Banshee, as in that old Irish folk tale about a ghost woman who wails when someone's going to die? You mean that's actually real?"

_Asked the man who lives in a castle full of gargoyles, whose wife is the daughter of the fairy queen, whose son is casting spells before he can talk, and who has_ me _for a personal assistant._ The thought must have shown on his face, because Xanatos responded, "What am I saying? Of course it's real." He sighed. "But then the question still remains … how can she be here?"

"I have a few theories on that, sir. However, there is really no way to confirm any of them."

"I suppose we could just ask her."

"Indeed we could. But she may not be entirely forthcoming. Still, there is another possible source of information…"

"I'm listening."

"Fox's mother."

"You're joking."

"Never, sir." _At least, not in this form._

"Owen, listen. One: I don't want that woman anywhere near my family again, not after what happened. Two: What makes you think she'd be any more truthful than your … friend over there?" He asked, nodding his head in the direction of Molly.

"Respectfully, sir, while I understand your sentiments, I do believe it was never actually Titania's objective to take your child away. As to your other concern, I think she would at least be inclined to be more truthful towards her own daughter at this point. She does not wish to be estranged from Fox and Alexander forever."

Xanatos paused to consider. "If we did want to contact Titania – and that's a big if – how would we even go about it?"

"Fox would just have to call her name." Xanatos raised a brow.

"Really? It's that simple?"

"Because he is her queen, Oberon allows her to come and go as she pleases. And Fox is her daughter; they are connected. If she wishes to speak with her, Titania will come."

Xanatos considered for a moment. "I'll have to talk with her. Owen … you _are_ sure this woman is really who you think she is? She's not just some human sorceress sending out … oh, I don't know, a false signal or something?"

"I'm certain, sir. I would recognize her no matter what her form."

There was something about the way he said that, some shift in his tone that Xanatos couldn't quite define, and it gave him pause. He considered asking Owen to elaborate, but ultimately decided to let it go, at least for the moment.

"Alright then. In the meantime …" The walked back over to where Molly was still standing. The smile had faded, and she was looking at them expectantly. Xanatos made sure to stand between her and his son. It was an instinctive gesture; logically, he knew he really had no way of preventing any sort of magical attack, but on a purely emotional level, it made him feel better.

Her voice was low, smooth, reassuring. "I mean you no harm."

"That remains to be seen."

She titled her head at him, seeming to consider his words. "And you _will _see. As a matter of fact, I could actually be quite helpful to you."

Xanatos looked at her, and then at Owen, noting that the gazes of the two disguised fay had locked again. "I already have all the help I need, thanks."

Her lips curved in an enigmatic smile. "And here I thought you said he was a man who didn't turn down opportunities." She was addressing Owen now, not him.

His assistant's expression mirrored her own. "He is more cautious as of late. A child changes things."

She quirked a brow. "At least for mortals it does."

"I think we should table this discussion for now," Xanatos said, growing rather tired of the two of them talking like he wasn't standing right there. He turned to her.

"Should we want to contact you …?"

"Just have _him_ call my name," she said, nodding at Owen.

"Your real name." It wasn't a question.

"Of course." She turned to leave, and then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Good to see you again, Puck."

"Likewise." The warmth in Owen's voice surprised him. He turned to look at his assistant, but he was greeted with his usual cool, unreadable expression. Then he turned to look back the one who called herself Molly, only to find she was gone.

"Owen?"

"Sir?"

Xanatos sighed. "Never mind. Let's go home. I need to discuss this with my wife."

"Of course."

He followed quietly behind Xanatos and Alexander. Had he been his true self, his feelings about this new development would have been more evident, but as Owen, there was only the brief flicker of an amused smile across his face to hint at his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

Siren Song

Chapter 2: Explanations

"Be well, Fox. I plan to look in on you and Alexander from time to time.

"Must you?"

"Why are you angry? Didn't things work out to your satisfaction?"

"That hardly changes what you tried to do."

"What makes you think this isn't exactly what I've been trying to do from the beginning?" – _Titania and Fox, from "The Gathering: Part Two"_

"Are you sure about this?"

"No, David, I'm not. But I can't think of a better way to handle the situation." His wife's mouth was set in a determined line. He thought, not for the first time, how beautiful she was, how brilliant, and how strong. It had taken him a long time to admit to himself how much he truly loved her, how much she mattered. He couldn't forget how close he had once come to losing her, and then how close they had both come to losing their son. He had no desire to see Titania again, but he was resolved to trust Fox's judgment. For once, he was willing to follow someone else's lead.

They hadn't really discussed it much in the intervening months, that whole incident with Titania and Oberon – at least, not until now. So many things had happened that night; so many secrets had been revealed, not the least of which was "Anastasia's" true identity. That alone would have been overwhelming for Fox to process, but she hadn't really been able to absorb the enormity of it at the time, more concerned of the immediate threat of losing her son.

These days, he was watching her, and she was watching herself, looking for further signs of the long-dormant magic that had apparently been her birthright. But aside from the magical blast she'd directed at Oberon on that harrowing evening, Fox had yet to show any further signs of her abilities.

Xanatos rather wished she had. While he would have once seen her magical potential as simply another source of power, now he saw it as another means for her to protect herself, for them to protect their family. He had even flat-out asked Owen if he could teach Fox as well as Alexander, only to be given the answer which he expected: that Oberon's decree had only allowed for the training of the child, and he could find no loophole that would allow him to instruct both mother and son.

In the meantime, there was another potential magical ally – or enemy – out there, waiting to see what he would do, and he simply didn't know enough about "Molly" to make an informed decision. He was as wary of contacting Fox's mother as she was, but he had to agree that they hadn't come up with any better options.

And on a personal level, a part of him wanted Fox to be able to reconcile with her mother; he knew the pain of being separated from a parent, in more ways than one, having lost his own mother at a young age, and having only recently come to terms with his father after a long period of difficulty. He was well aware that Fox's father, Reynard, probably wasn't going to last much longer; in all likelihood, Titania would soon be the only parent she had left. Still, he couldn't ignore the possible threat the fairy queen presented.

So here they were, then. Fox was clutching Alexander tight to her, summoning up the nerve for the simple act of speaking her mother's true name. Owen wasn't there; he'd asked to be excused from the meeting, and Xanatos had quickly agreed. He suspected that Titania's presence would be a rather too painful reminder of what the Puck had lost, and he had no desire to subject him to that.

Suppressing the twinge of guilt he felt, he nodded at his wife, giving her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She nodded back, looking grim but determined.

"Titania," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Perhaps Owen had been mistaken? The couple was just beginning to feel a curious combination of relief and disappointment when, in a sudden flash of light, the Queen of Avalon was before them.

Xanatos had to admit it was a rather impressive entrance. The very air seemed charged with her magic. Alexander babbled happily at her presence; for a child not yet a year old, his motor skills and language development were impressive; he was already able to say a handful of words quite clearly, and the child-safety latches they'd put on the cupboards and such had proved quite useless (fortunately, Owen had been able to use magic-proofing on the more dangerous areas).

"My dear daughter," Titania's smile was open and gracious, a look of pleased surprise shining in her eyes. "I had not hoped to hear from you so soon, if at all." Of course, for them it had been more than six months since the incident, but Xanatos knew time passed more slowly on Avalon

"I find that hard to believe, mother." Fox's tone was guarded, though not openly hostile. The fairy queen looked at her questioningly.

"Why do you say that?"

"You're married to Oberon; you rule by his side. Do you really expect me to believe that one of your own people made contact with my family, and you know nothing about it?"

Her eyes widened with understanding. "Ah. You are referring to the Banshee."

"Yes, and I'd like an explanation."

"I was aware that my lord and husband had upgraded the Banshee's punishment from enforced silence to banishment, but I was not aware she had made her way to Manhattan … though I suspected she would, eventually."

"Punishment?" Xanatos interjected, and she turned to him.

"Yes, David. You see, when Oberon began The Gathering, Puck was not the only one who refused to return home. There was one other: the Banshee. She was tracked down by the Weird Sisters and brought before my husband. Her punishment was to be gagged, deprived of her siren voice, until he heard humility in her silence. But the Banshee is a proud, stubborn creature, and the humbling my lord hoped for did not come. Even without her words, she defied him with her looks. So she was given a new sentence, one very similar to the Puck's."

"Eternal banishment?" Fox asked.

"Not exactly," Titania explained. "Oberon decreed she would be banished from Avalon indefinitely, until such time as he felt she was truly remorseful. He sent her out into the mortal world and suggested she find a way to make herself useful, hinting that doing so might encourage him to reconsider her exile. If she has approached you, I believe that is why."

"And just how can she make herself useful, exactly?" Xanatos asked. "Does she still have her powers, or did Oberon take them too, as he did with Puck's?"

"Yes … and no. He reduced her powers significantly, but what abilities remain, she can use anytime she likes – unlike the Puck, who can still use his powers to the fullest, but only in the training and protection of my grandson." Here, she smiled fondly at Alexander, moving towards Fox with her hand outstretched.

Fox reflexively backed away, and Titania looked pained, but not surprised. "I suppose I deserve your mistrust, my daughter," she said sadly, "Despite what I tried to explain to you after the battle. I hope some day you will be able to truly understand why I did what I did."

"Don't hold your breath on that one." Oddly enough, the tart reply seemed to amuse her.

"Such fire in you, my child, even now. I am glad to see motherhood has not dulled the flame."

"When you say he reduced her powers," Xanatos said, drawing her back to the matter at hand. "What does that mean exactly? How powerful was she before, and how powerful is she now?"

Titania considered. "She has always been one of the more gifted members of our race – as Puck is, or was, truth be told. The majority of her magic is in her voice; before my lord's decree, her keening could do a great deal, including kill if she so desired it. Now, it would say she could probably only maim mortals with her song."

"Only?" Fox snorted, but Titania continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"Aside from that, she has the other abilities typical of our people. Transformation – I am sure she came to you in mortal guise – illusion generating, flight, and the ability to cast spells with a specific aim – usually through the use of rhyming to focus the magic. I suspect she is still capable of all these things, but that they will require a great deal more exertion from her than they normally would. So even with her powers diminished, I would say she is still a force to be reckoned with. Of course, she remains vulnerable to wrought iron, as we all are."

"Do you … do you think we can trust her?" Fox's tone was not quite so defensive now. As angry as she had been at her mother, as angry as she still was, the love was there, underneath, and she wanted to believe that her mother's love for her, for her father, for her son, had not been just part of the illusion of her mortal identity. Titania turned back to her.

"If you would take such advice from me, my dear daughter, I would say that the Banshee _can_ be trusted … to a point. She can be very cruel, but she can also be kind, when she so chooses, and despite her not wanting to return home, I can assure you she has no desire to be banished from Avalon forever. None of the Children possibly could."

"I suppose we should thank you then, for the information," Xanatos admitted grudgingly. Titania merely nodded.

"I am pleased you would seek my counsel, even after all that has happened. Perhaps there is hope for us yet."

"Well, as Fox said, don't hold your breath. But as a wise man once told me, the future is not written yet."

She smiled slightly. "Indeed, it is not. Be well, then. All of you," she answered, her gaze rested on each of them in turn, and finally settling on her daughter. "Fox, I hope you will call for me again … someday." She turned, seeming to sense that their meeting had come to an end, but then hesitated.

"One last bit of advice, if you care to hear it. I have given you all the information I can on the Banshee. If you desire more insight into her character, I suggest you speak with Puck."

"Really?"

"Yes, David. It was a long time ago, but when we were all first exiled to the mortal realm, I believe they spent a great deal of time together as traveling companions … though they eventually parted ways."

"I'll keep that in mind," Xanatos said.

"Goodbye, mother," Fox said, unable to keep the hint of sadness out of her voice.

"Goodbye, Fox," Titania said wistfully, her voice lingering in the room for an instant after her form had vanished.

"Well," said Xanatos briskly, turning to his wife, "that was helpful. Not exactly conclusive, but helpful."

"What do you think we should do?"

Xanatos paused to consider, drawing his arms around his wife and child. "I'm not sure. What do you think, Alex?" He looked down at his son, almost expecting an answer from the remarkable child whose powers he could not fully understand. Alex merely blinked up at him, seeming sleepy now that Titania's magical energy had left the room, and yawned.

Fox chuckled. "I'd say he's indifferent at this point," she said, and then grew serious. "You know, as much as I hate to admit it, my mother's probably right. You should talk to Owen about this. After that, I'll support whatever you decide." Just as he had been willing to follow her lead, she was ready to follow his.

"Alright then."

"I'm going to put him down for the night, David. Come back to me when you're done." She kissed him, softly, and walked away, placing her son gently in the crib. Except for occasional bouts of fussiness, Alexander was a very easygoing child, sleeping through the night more often than not.

He went back to his offices, where he found his assistant busily at work, looking for all the world like the perfectly ordinary human being Xanatos knew that he wasn't. He looked up expectantly when his employer entered, his features as guileless as usual. If the knowledge that Fox and Xanatos had been conversing with Titania had stirred up any unpleasant memories for him, no trace of that showed on his features now.

"Sir," he said, nodding by way of greeting. "I trust your meeting was … productive?"

"Fairly." And in quick, efficient detail, he began to fill Owen in on what Titania had said, or at least, the basic gist of the conversation. He paused afterwards, preferring to let his assistant absorb the information before asking him his any questions, as the fairy queen had suggested.

"There's one thing I'm not clear on, sir."

"Yes?"

"You said that, according to Titania, Oberon had 'upgraded' the Banshee's punishment to restrictions on her abilities and indefinite exile. May I ask what her original punishment had been?"

Had he not mentioned that? It hadn't seemed important, he supposed. What mattered to him was her state in the present, not the past. "Oh. I think she said he had her gagged –"

"_What?_"

Xanatos was startled by Owen's reaction. He looked horrified, sickened even, and what's more, he'd visibly paled.

"That's … that's not really so bad, is it?" Xanatos asked, completely caught off guard by his expression.

"Try to imagine, sir," Owen said, and for a moment, there was a hard edge to his voice that Xanatos didn't recognize, "what it would be like if someone were slowly suffocating you. Except in this case, there would be no release, because you could not die. You would be suspended in agony, between life and death, gasping for the air to fill your lungs, the air that never comes, trapped forever between breaths."

It took a lot a lot to shake Xanatos, but he had to admit that Owen provided a rather disturbingly vivid description.

"And that's what such a punishment would be like for one of your people?"

"Well no, not normally, but for _her_ … I mean, her _voice_ … it's … that's just not … not …" Xanatos was sure he'd been about to say, _not right_, but Owen caught himself, quickly regaining a large measure of his usual composure. "In any case, Lord Oberon must do as he sees fit," Owen continued smoothly, only a hint of bitterness is his voice. "And I see no reason Titania would lie to you now."

"I see. Then you think we can trust her – the Banshee, I mean. Or Molly, as she's calling herself now."

"To a point, yes," he said, echoing Titania's sentiment. "She would be a most useful ally, even with her powers reduced."

"Well then …" Xanatos hesitated. Normally, he wouldn't beat around the bush, especially not with Owen. He had no qualms about demanding from him exactly what he wanted, because of the deal he had made with Puck was for a lifetime of complete, devoted service in his mortal guise. Guilt was not an emotion he usually wasted time on, but he could not help but feel a little badly for how things had turned out.

He knew Puck hadn't wanted to return to Avalon; when he'd revealed himself and made the offer to Xanatos, he'd told him in no uncertain terms how quickly paradise got boring. Still, not wanting go home in the moment was a lot different than being banished for all of his immortal life. That night, before he'd once again taken on the stoic façade of Owen, Xanatos had seen the anguish in Puck's eyes – a look of pain, panic, and finally, despairing acceptance. It hadn't been a pleasant thing to witness.

Xanatos wasn't fooling himself. He would have easily sacrificed the fay's freedom to keep his son. He just wished it didn't have to be this way. Owen – Puck – had shown him an extraordinary loyalty, and it had cost him dearly. And so, he found himself rather reluctant to ask any more questions. Privacy, he felt, was one of the few things remaining in his power to grant to his faithful second-in-command.

He could afford, he thought, to put the more detailed questions aside, at least for the time being – though in the end, he suspected his own curiosity would get the better of him, if nothing else. Owen's uncharacteristic reactions had already proven quite telling, in their own way.

"Sir?" Owen's voice startled him out of his thoughts. "What are you going to do?"

Xanatos took a deep breath. "Owen, I think it's time you called on your friend."


	3. Chapter 3

Siren Song

Chapter 3: Summoning

"The time of the Gathering approaches. Oberon wants his children to return to Avalon." – _The_ _Banshee, from "The Hound of Ulster."_

_She had warned him this would happen._

_It seemed such a long time ago now. The day had been so calm, so quiet. As a matter of fact, he had been starting to get bored, buried in the tedium the humans called "paperwork." For the most part, his time with Xanatos had proved to be anything but dull, but now that they had made this pact, the Puck was realizing that it wasn't going to be all fun and games. Ah well. He had designed his new persona to be extremely efficient after all, so he supposed he could accept the good with the bad…_

_He looked up, suddenly aware that he was not alone. He felt her presence even before she appeared. The energy of her magic crackled in the air, and a wind suddenly blew through his office, scattering the papers, although all the windows were shut tight. He made no move to pick them up as she materialized, in her mortal guise. Behind his mask, his eyes danced with barely contained amusement._

"I don't believe you have an appointment."

_She laughed, and the sound of it pleased him more than he was willing to admit. In the past, she had always been so stubbornly determined not be amused by his 'antics,' as she had called them. It was ironic, he supposed, that she would find this stern façade of his humorous._

"I wasn't aware that I needed one, Mr. Burnett. Owen Burnett. That is what you're calling yourself these days, isn't it? Hardly a suitable alias for you, Puck. Not like Robin Goodfellow was."

"Oh, and Molly O'Riordan is such a perfect fit for you?"

_And with that, they both reverted to their true forms._ "At least I great creative when I take on a mortal form," _Puck chided her._ "Your guises always look the same."

_The Banshee frowned, all traces of amusement gone. Typical._ "You are impertinent,"_ she said warningly, and this time it was his turn to laugh. How many times had she said that to him?_

"Oh, and just what are you going to do about it, hmm?" _He glided towards her, paused, and then flitted about the room, much as he had when Demona had summoned him. She sighed and rolled her eyes._

"Puck, when was the last time you took anything seriously?"

"When was the last time you ran a brush through that hair of yours, my dear little siren?"

_He caught a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth for just an instant, before she remembered to scowl._ "Don't call me that," _she hissed._ "I am the Banshee, the –"

"Scourge of Ireland, the bane of mortals, the harbinger of death, blah, blah, blah, blah … blah." _He finished in a bored tone, coming to a stop in front of her, getting right in her face on the last word._ "You sing an old song. And if you've gotten tired of mucking about on the Emerald Isle and are looking for some new mortals to play with … well, these ones are taken, find your own. Although," _Puck paused, considering, or at least pretending to, _"I suppose I could share, if you'd be willing to take on a proper role … say, how fast can you type? Because I could use a secretary –"

"Oh Puck, will you shut up!"_ He was really beginning to get on her nerves now. _How delightful_, he thought._

"I didn't come here to play any of your stupid games!" _She snapped, still quite irritated._ "I can to warn you, you little ingrate!"

"Warn me?" _Puck asked carelessly._ "Warn me of what?"

"The time of the Gathering is at hand."

_There were very few things that could cause Puck to get serious, but her statement was one of them._ "That's not funny."

"It's not a joke." _She folded her arms across her chest, looking grim._ "Mortal travelers came to me a short time ago in Ireland. They had recently been in Avalon. There is only one reason they could have come to my home. Oberon wants us to go back."

"You … you don't know that." _Puck countered nervously, grasping at straws._ "You're always jumping to conclusions, you know. You … you could be wrong. There could be another explanation."

"Are you telling me you have not felt the call? You have not felt yourself being pulled there?"

"No," _he said stubbornly._ "No, I haven't." _She gave him a disbelieving look, and he withered under her discerning gaze_. "All right, so maybe I have," _he admitted._ "Though really, it's no more than a gentle tug at this point. Hardly distinguishable from the usual Avalon nostalgia."

"Hmm." _She nodded, agreeing with him for once._ "And all too easy to ignore. I don't want to go back any more than you do, Puck. At least, not yet."

_Puck pouted._ "Honestly, does he _have_ to have it now? Give us another century or two, is that really so much to ask? Look at all the new things the mortals have invented lately. They're just getting fun again!"

_She scoffed._ "Oh please, spare me your fascination with mortal 'ingenuity.'"

"Hey, don't knock it, at least not 'til you've tried New York-style deep-dish pizza. If you thought ambrosia was good … you know, if you want, we could go grab a slice–"

"Puck, this is serious!" _She cut him off, her voice rising. He sighed._

"I know, I know." _He paused._ "Any thoughts on what we should do?"

_She shrugged._ "At this point, what can we do? Run, hide …"

"Borrow, bribe," _he finished for her._ "Anything to buy more time, I suppose."

"Well, if you think of anything specific, I hope you'll let me know."

"I will." _For once, he spoke earnestly._

"I should go now. I think I'm going to give the running and hiding options a try, at least for a while."

"Thank you … for warning me."

_The briefest hint of a smile._ "You're welcome, I suppose." _She started to fade away._

"Be careful," _he called after her._ "I wouldn't put it past big daddy Oberon to send those three harpies out to capture you!"*

"I hope not," _her voice came back to him, as if from a great distance._ "In their way, they're almost as annoying as you."

"Oh hush. You know you'll miss me, my little siren."

"Don't flatter yourself … and don't call me that!"

_Her last words echoed in the room. Normally, he would be chuckling in amusement at their exchange, but for once, he had more serious matters to consider. _

_He glanced back over at his desk, and the papers strewn about. Well, technically, according to the terms he'd laid out himself in his deal with Xanatos, he wasn't supposed to use magic to get his job done, but …_

"Oh, who cares if I break my own rules? Oberon does it all the time." _And with that, he zapped the papers, and they were neatly organized on the desk, complete down to the smallest detail._

"Now," _he muttered to himself,_ "I need to think. Run? Nope, can't do that, I promised Davey-boy I'd stay. Hide? Can't, for the same reason. Borrow? What, and from whom? Bribe? Ah, now _there's _an idea …" _and that was when he had hit upon the scheme to get the Phoenix Gate from Goliath. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked out … for either of them._

"Owen?" Xanatos's voice startled him out of his remembrance. "Did you hear what I said? I want you to call her."

"Of course, sir. Forgive me." He was unable to suppress the slight smile as he spoke her name: "Banshee."

There was a flash of green light, and for a moment, Xanatos caught a glimpse of her in what he assumed was her true form, a beautiful, ghostly looking woman with a tattered dress and wild hair. When the light faded, however, her appearance was entirely human, and "Molly" stood before them.

She looked at Owen, seeming annoyed, or amused, or both. "You rang?"

"Actually I did," Xanatos said, and she turned to him. "We've been … considering your offer. I'd like to hear your terms."

She shrugged. "What is there to say? I won't insult your intelligence by pretending to be altruistic. Helping you serves my own interests, at least for the time being. Make me an employee if you like. I will work for you in any way you see fit; I will provide magical or non-magical assistance as you deem it appropriate. I would only ask that, when I am in this form, I be allowed some of my own time to attend to the needs of this body; sleep, food, and the like."

"And what if you are suddenly forgiven and summoned home? Will you leave us in the lurch?"

She scowled. "Ah, you've been talking with Titania, I see." There was bitterness in her voice now. "Honestly, I don't think you have to worry about that. I sincerely doubt I will be welcomed back to Avalon in your lifetime."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I plan on living for quite a while."

"Sir," Owen interjected. "Might I suggest we deal with that problem if and when it comes? Oberon is extremely slow to forgiveness. It shouldn't be an issue for a very, very long time." He sounded almost weary when he said that, defeated even. But Xanatos supposed he had a point.

"Fair enough. So tell me …"

"Molly. Just call me Molly."

"Molly. What do you know about cybernetics? Robotics? Genetics?"

Molly smiled. "Whatever you want me to know. Whatever you need me to know. If you want to put me at work in your company, Mr. Xanatos, I can make myself suitable for any job you like … except for being a secretary, of course," she added, with a pointed look at Owen, who smiled, as if at some private joke.

"I wouldn't dream of wasting your talents that way," he said smoothly, although he failed to see the humor in her statement. "I'm sure we can find something for you at Xanatos Enterprises. In addition … how good are you at teaching magic?"

"Teaching … magic?" She asked, somewhat taken aback. "Do you mean for me to instruct your son? I thought you already had Puck for that."

"I'm not talking about teaching my son." Behind him, Owen was nodding, having followed his meaning. "I'm talking about teaching my wife. Her magical ability has apparently lain dormant all her life, but we have on one occasion seen it come out. Puck isn't allowed to help her tap into that; he can only train Alexander. But I know my wife would like to be able to access it whenever she wants. Could you help her with that?"

Molly paused to consider. "I suppose, if she is willing to learn … then I am willing to teach."

Xanatos smiled. Fox would be pleased at the prospect, he knew. "Good, then it's settled." He shook her hand. "I'll have Owen find a suitable position for you in the company, and in the meantime, you can begin instructing my wife, whenever she feels ready. Any questions?"

"Where will I live?"

"Well, I own the building, and it's got more rooms than we could ever fill, including plenty of empty residential quarters so … take your pick. Anything else?"

"Well, yes … I understand you have a clan of gargoyles living here."

Xanatos frowned. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, but they may have a problem with me." She hesitated, and then began to elaborate. "You see, I have made my home in Ireland for centuries, and just this past year, I encountered what I considered to be intruders to my realm. Two gargoyles – well, three, if you count the great beast – and a human woman who was with them. I could tell they'd recently been in Avalon, and mistakenly believed that Lord Oberon sent them."

"Always jumping to conclusions," Owen interjected suddenly, chiding her, and she frowned. Xanatos held up a hand, and he fell silent.

"I'm afraid I may have treated them … less than kindly." She finished. "I believe they are of the same clan you have living here. It is quite possible they would hold a grudge against me."

She had to be talking about Goliath, Angela, Bronx, and the good detective Maza. After all, how many gargoyles would be traveling with a human?

"Well, thank you for telling me. I'll have to discuss it with them. Goliath is their leader, and I've found he can usually be quite reasonable…"

"Sir, is that wise?" Owen asked. "With all due respect, do the gargoyles even need to know her true identity? It would be easy enough to keep it from them."

"You know Owen, maybe a few months ago, I would have agreed with that. But the Clan has done a lot for me, and we've co-existed quite peacefully for some time now. I've come to know from experience that the more open and honest I am in dealing with Goliath and the others, the more I can depend on them when I need their help. Besides, I couldn't risk keeping this a secret, only for them to find out on their own and feel betrayed, starting the feud all over again." Owen still looked as if he wanted to protest, but her merely nodded. "I'll simply have to explain the situation, give them my assurances, and trust them to behave appropriately. Goliath has never struck me as someone who broods over revenge for every slight. If they can forgive me for all I've done, I'm sure they can forgive her."

"I wouldn't certainly hope so." Owen conceded. "In the meantime, may I suggest you give them a wide berth," he said, addressing Molly.

She nodded. "I'll heed your warning … even though you never heeded mine."

His eyes widened slightly. "But I did heed your warning … at least, I tried to. I just … I had to come back." He sounded slightly sad, or wistful. Then he cleared his throat, assuming his usual brisk, businesslike manner. "In any case, that hardly matters now. Mr. Xanatos, if there's nothing further, Molly and I should discuss her future with the company."

"Alright then. I'll let Fox know what's happening, and she'll set up a lesson with you when she's ready," he told Molly.

"This way, please," Owen told her, gesturing towards his office with his good hand. He was about to follow her when Xanatos stopped him.

"Molly, would you give us a minute?" She looked as if she wanted to ask why, but seem to think better of it, and merely nodded, proceeding to Owen's office.

"Sir?"

"What was that whole exchange regarding warnings all about?"

"Oh. Well, she … she warned me, sir. When Lord Oberon was about to begin the Gathering, she came to tell me it was happening."

"Why?"

"I suppose because she knew that I, like her, had no desire to return home … at least, not at the time."

"So she gave you a heads up, for all the good it did."

"Indeed. Though I must say, I still appreciated the gesture." He paused. "Was there anything else you wanted to know, sir?"

_Yes, quite a lot, actually. But …_ "No, Owen. Not right now. Let me just say that, whatever job you find for her, make sure you're able to keep a close eye on her activities. I still don't entirely trust her."

"I'll have her work directly with me, then." Owen said quickly. "It should make that easier. Unless you object, of course," he added hastily.

"No, it makes sense; I can't see any reason to object." _At least, not for the time being._

"Then, if that's all, we will begin our work." Xanatos nodded, and Owen joined Molly in his office.

Meanwhile, Xanatos went to see his wife. He would be very interested to hear her thoughts on these latest developments, and hoped she'd help him find the best way to break the news to Goliath and his clan.

* Puck is referring to the Weird Sisters here, just in case it wasn't obvious.


	4. Chapter 4

Siren Song

Chapter 4: Détente*

"The feud is over, detective." – _Xanatos, to Elisa Maza, from "Hunter's Moon, Part 3."_

"You want me to work on this … 'Restoration Project,' then." They were standing on opposite sides of his desk, each leaning over to look at the papers.

"Yes. There's not a problem with that, is there?"

"No, of course not. I was just wondering if there was any particular reason why."

"Not really, no."

"I know better than that," she said quietly.

"Do you think so, even now?"

"Always."

Owen blinked. "Indeed. Well, if you must know, I was thinking that success on this project might go a long way in smoothing over any potential animosity between you and the Manhattan Clan."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't need to you to play peacemaker on my behalf."

"Why shouldn't I? You've never learned to do it yourself. You're too proud."

"Look who's talking."

Owen frowned. "Defiance and pride are two entirely different things."

"So you say."

"I am trying to help you."

"Are you?"

"Yes, and it wouldn't kill you to be grateful."

She looked as if she had a sharp reply on the tip of her tongue, but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she walked over to his side of the desk, stopping when they were standing face to face. She touched his hand, the stone one.

"I suppose you're right," she said softly. And with that, he felt the stone turn to flesh again.

For once, she had the pleasure of catching him off guard. Owen slowly unclenched his fist, marveling at the returning sensations. He held his restored hand out before him, flexing his fingers, his eyes wide, disbelieving. Before Oberon's punishment, the stone fist hadn't bothered him. At that point, he could have changed it back himself if he wanted to. But he'd been committed to remaining "in character" as a mortal.

Then, once he'd been stripped of his powers, the choice had been taken away, and he'd come to quietly resent it, as a constant reminder of what he'd lost.

Of course, he'd considered ways to restore his hand; he often thought of turning it into a transformation lesson for Alexander. But that kind of spell was tricky for one so young, even as talented as his pupil was; he had no desire to risk disastrous results for himself by pushing the boy to try something like that too soon. So he had a potential way to restore his hand, but the possibility was years down the line. To have the problem taken care of so soon was quite a pleasant surprise.

Molly was smiling at him. "Consider it a token of my gratitude, then. And a gesture of good faith." She sounded a bit breathless, he realized. She staggered unsteadily on her feet, and he caught before she sank to the floor, guiding her gently back into the chair.

"Are you alright?"

"That … shouldn't have taken so much out of me," she said shakily, and a bit angrily. Clearly, she hadn't yet accepted the reality of her reduced power.

"You've been doing magic all day … vanishing, re-appearing, and now this … it's a bit much, I think."

"It would have been nothing before." Her tone was bitter.

"Don't dwell on it," he advised, squeezing her shoulder briefly. "You should go rest now. We can start on the project tomorrow."

"Alright." She looked up at him. "You know, it wouldn't kill you either."

"What?"

"To be grateful."

"Oh, of course. Thank you."

She nodded, and then stood up, rather slowly, grasping his newly restored hand briefly for support, and started gingerly walking out the room. He was already busying himself with paperwork when he heard her voice.

"Puck?"

She was standing in the threshold of the doorway when he looked up, slightly startled. The disturbing thought occurred to him that, at times, his true name felt foreign to him.

"Yes?"

"How … how can I stand this?"

For a moment he was struck by how vulnerable she sounded. He didn't like it.

"You … will learn to adapt, as I have. Speaking of which, you had better not call me … that. At least, not in public."

She shrugged. "We're not in public now."

"No, little siren. We are not."

A brief smile flickered across her features. "Goodnight, then." And she left. But still, he waited, mentally counting down.

_3 … 2 …1._

Right on cue, she popped her head back in the door, scowling. "Public or private … _don't call me that_."

A smirk was his only response, and she finally retreated, with an exasperated sigh.

Meanwhile, in another part of the building, Xanatos was filling his wife in on the situation.

"So, we have a new employee. Any idea on what you're going to have her do?"

"I'm trusting Owen to find the right role for her in the company. But whatever he has her working on, it's only going to part of her job description."

"Oh?"

"She's agreed to teach you magic."

He expected her to be pleased by this, but Fox reacted only with stunned silence. He clasped her hand.

"What's the matter? I thought you'd be happy."

"I am … but …"

"What?"

"David, I'm a little scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of losing control. Like with the Eye of Odin –"

Xanantos scoffed. "That was different –"

"That was magic. Avalon's magic. And it nearly destroyed me."

He didn't like to think about that. He wrapped his arms around his wife comfortingly, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Fox, the Eye was an outside force exerting influence over you," he said soothingly, his chin resting atop her head. "The magic we're talking about now, even if it's the same type, is coming from within. If our infant son can control his magical powers, you certainly can. I believe in you. It's going to be fine." He pulled back to look at her. "Okay?"

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll talk to her soon. Now, about the best way to break the news to the gargoyles …"

Xanatos sighed. "Oh yes, that."

"I think you should –"

"You mean _we_. We're doing this together, my dear. Oh come on now," he added, when she started to protest. "I need you."

He'd rarely admit to such a thing, Fox knew. She sighed. "Well, let's just get over with then. For the record, I think we should tell Goliath privately, and then he can pass it on to the rest of the clan."

"Sounds good. Shall we?"

She rolled her eyes. "This is going to be fun."

"What?" A short while later, they were standing before Goliath, having just explained things to him. As expected, he wasn't taking it very well.

"Goliath, try to see it from her perspective –"

"_Her_ perspective? She nearly killed Elisa in Ireland with her wailing! If Bronx hadn't –"

"She was desperate," Fox said quickly. Of course, she didn't really know if that was the case, but she needed to say something to appease him. "She thought you were sent by Oberon."

Goliath scowled. "That's no excuse."

"No, it's not," Xanatos agreed smoothly. "But it's not as though she hasn't suffered consequences for her actions. She's exiled from her home, Goliath. She's alone, and she has nowhere else to go.

Goliath folded his arms in front of him. "You make it sound as though you are taking her in out of pity. Do not insult me, Xanatos. You seek to make use of her magical abilities, even as muted as you claim they now are."

"You're right," he conceded. "I do intend to make use of her. She's going to work for my company."

"And?" Goliath prompted, clearly knowing that was not all.

"And … she's going to teach me magic. The magic of my mother's people." Fox admitted. The gargoyle's eyes widened.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Xanatos countered. "It's part of Fox's heritage. She's already tapped into it once, and she was able to hurt someone who was trying to take our son. Why shouldn't she be able to call on that ability again, to protect herself, and others?"

"And you trust the Banshee to help her do this?"

"I trust that she realizes helping us can only serve her own interests. And I trust that Owen will keep a close eye on her and make sure she doesn't have any hidden agenda. Goliath, she's already expressed regret over the misunderstanding that you had in Ireland." Well, she hadn't exactly, but he had no qualms about fudging the truth just a bit in order to smooth things over.

"'Misunderstanding' is something of an understatement," Goliath said darkly.

"Of course, forgive me. In any case," he continued. "I can promise that she's not going to be bothering you or your clan. You probably won't even realize she's here."

"Vey well," Goliath said reluctantly. He didn't look pleased, but at least he seemed resigned. He paused. "You didn't have to tell me this, Xanatos. You could have kept her true identity a secret."

"I could have, yes. But after everything that's happened … well, a little honesty is the least I can do. Though I must admit, it does feel a bit strange to be so forthcoming." _Relatively speaking, of course._

Goliath smiled despite himself. "Do it a little more often and you'll get used to it."

Xanatos chuckled. "I'm afraid I just might." He offered his hand, and after a moment, Goliath shook it.

"I will share this news with Elisa and the rest of the clan. We will not bother your new … employee."

"Thank you, Goliath. I appreciate it. Now, if you'll excuse us, I think it's time we retired for the evening." He nodded, and the couple left.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Fox said quietly.

"We're fortunate Goliath is so reasonable."

She smiled. "Careful, David. At this rate, he'll be calling you a friend any day now."

"Oh, I think we're a long way from that day yet."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You know, the more I think about, the more I'm actually starting to getting excited."

"About what?"

"Learning magic, of course."

"Yes, it should prove quite useful for our protection."

"Not to mention the next time someone crosses us in a business deal, I can turn them into a rabbit or something." He laughed again, softly.

"You are so wicked, Fox my dear." He said, drawing her to him.

"Would you have me any other way?"

"No," he said huskily, and kissed her, and for the moment, they let all their scheming fade away.

*"Détente" is a French word for "the easing of tensions or strained relations as by agreement, negotiation, or tacit understandings."


	5. Chapter 5

Siren Song

Chapter 5: Lessons Learned

"He had a brilliant teacher." – _Puck, about Alexander Xanatos, in "Possession."_

"Hello," Fox said quietly.

"Hello," Molly echoed, with what she hoped was a welcoming smile. For a moment, there was a rather awkward silence, and the two women regarded each other uncertainly, warily, sizing each other up.

"You look like her," Molly said suddenly.

"Who?"

"Your mother." Seeing the expression on Fox's face, Molly tried hastily tried to backtrack. "Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to offend –"

"No, no, that's alright. I wasn't offended. Just surprised. I didn't think I looked like her. I mean, I used to think I did, before I knew who … what … she really was. And now … well, I mean, come on. She has pointed ears and green skin. There's not a lot of similarity there."

Molly paused, considering. "Maybe not. Maybe it's more in the way you carry yourself. But then, there's still something about the eyes …" She shrugged. "Anyway, it was just an observation. So … is there a particular area in which you'd like to start?"

"Well, I was kind of thinking, you know, maybe soul transference? I mean, it's a bit embarrassing that my infant son has already mastered that, and I haven't."

Molly frowned. "Respectfully, I don't think that's a good idea. Soul transfers are tricky. Not that I doubt your abilities. I mean, with your background –"

"You don't have to do that." Fox cut her off.

"Do what?"

"You don't have to be a sycophant with me. In fact, I'd like us to relate to each other as equals."

Fox thought she would react favorably to this, so she was surprised when Molly's eyes narrowed, and her tone grew sharp. "Funny. I don't see your husband doing that with Puck."

Fox blinked, slightly affronted. "David has always respected and appreciated Owen," She said, a touch defensively. "We both do."

"As you should, Mrs. Xanatos."

_Interesting._ "Yes, and it's Fox. Now, if could kindly explain why soul transfers are an inappropriate place to start. After all, Owen – Puck – he started with –"

"Yes well, I would have suspected his teaching methods to be rather unorthodox. Don't misunderstand; I have no doubt he is a fine teacher for your son. But he has a tendency to be … chaotic. If it's alright with you, I'd prefer we use a little more structure in our lessons. Besides which, soul transfers also require voluntary participation. So unless you know someone who wants to have an out-of-body experience, I don't suggest we try it at this time."

Fox nodded. "Okay, point taken. And I'm fine with structure. As long as I still get to have fun." She smiled, and Molly couldn't help but give her a genuine smile back. The woman had her mother's charisma, if nothing else.

"I believe we can manage that. I was thinking, maybe we could start with levitation, and progress to flying. Would that work for you?"

Fox's whole face lit up, giving Molly all the answer she needed.

Several hours later, Xanatos and Owen were finishing going over some contracts in another part of the building. Earlier, Xanatos had been a little startled to notice his employee's newly restored hand, but Owen had quickly explained that it was Molly's handiwork, apparently a token of her good will.

"You think she'll be teaching my wife to do something like that in her first lesson today?"

Owen had shaken his head. "I doubt it, sir. Knowing her, she will probably start with something more basic."

"I see. As opposed to your teaching style when instructing my son, which is more, shall we say, eclectic?"

"Sir, if you like, I can make the lessons more structured –"

"No, Owen, it's fine. Now then," he'd said briskly. "I'd like your thoughts on the Meyers buyout."

They'd been at it for quite some time now. It was dark, but the large window in the office would still have given them quite a lovely view of the city, had either of them been inclined to look outside. As it was, they were far too absorbed in completing their work.

That is, until they were interrupted by a small but distinct sound: _tap tap_.

Xanatos looked up. _What was that?_ He glanced at Owen questioningly, frowned as the man shrugged, and look about for the source of the sound.

When his gaze fell on the window, he let out an involuntary yelp, nearly jumping out of his skin. Outside, his wife was simply … _floating_ in mid-air, grinning at him. Her hair whipped wildly about her face, and her eyes briefly glowed green before returning to normal.

"What the –?" He was interrupted by what sounded suspiciously like a snort of laughter. He glared at Owen, who returned his look with a completely guileless expression, though he could swear the man's eyes were dancing with just a hint of Puckish glee.

"Shall we let her in, sir?" Xanatos could only nod, and Owen went to open the window. Fox flitted in and landed gracefully on the ground, laughing. Molly flew in behind her, setting down beside Owen.

"Oh David, you should have seen your face!"

"That was _not _funny."

"Oh come on," she said playfully, putting her arms around him. "You already knew I was a great pilot, was this really such a stretch?"

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Even so, he couldn't really be upset with her, not when she looked so excited and happy. "But I'm _so_ proud of you."

"Thank you," she said, kissing him lightly. She glanced over at Molly. "I had a good teacher."

Molly look a little startled at the warmth in Fox's tone, but not displeased. "Uh … it was nothing, really. Your wife is a quick study," She said, trying to minimize, but she couldn't bite back a grin. The couple's enthusiasm was infectious. "Besides, we're just getting started."

Xanatos eyed his wife. "You're not going to turn me into a toad or anything, are you?"

"Only if you don't behave," she said, kissing him again.

"You see what happens when you're nice to mortals?" Owen murmured in Molly's ear.

"I've always been nice to mortals."

"Yes, very good. Now try and say that again with a straight face."

"Oh hush."

The moment was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a gargoyle swooping down from above. A concerned-looking Goliath glided through the open window.

"Xanatos, what is happening? We saw Fox and another human _flying_ beneath us and –"

"I was just finishing my first magic lesson," Fox said quickly. "Sorry if we startled you."

Goliath's eyes darted around the room, until they settled on the only unfamiliar face. _This must be the Banshee in her mortal guise._ He growled. "I should have known."

Owen scowled, stepping in front of Molly. "There is no need to be so hostile."

"Goliath, I didn't realize a magic lesson might have had the potential to disturb you and your clan," Xanatos said, before the tension level in the room could go up any further. "I'm sure we could arrange it so the lessons end before daylight from now on, if that would make you feel better."

"That is unnecessary. What you do with your time is your own affair, so long so long as it does not threaten my city. We were merely … disconcerted by the sight of two _apparently _human persons flying around without aid."

Xanatos smiled. "Believe me, I know the feeling," he said, with a sidelong glance at his wife.  
>"Again, please accept my apologies."<p>

Goliath merely nodded. His gaze flicked back over the two disguised fay. Owen was still scowling. Over his shoulder, the Banshee – or Molly, as Xanatos had said she called herself now – was looking at him with what seemed to be a determinedly blank expression. He looked back at Xanatos, nodded curtly, and glided back out into the night.

"Well, that really killed my buzz." Xanatos turned to his wife.

"You shouldn't let it, Fox. This is a tremendous accomplishment. We should celebrate –"

"David, I was kidding. I'm happy. But I'm also tired. Why don't you meet me downstairs when you're finished with the contracts, and we'll talk some more. Molly, would you come with me, please? I'd like to discuss our plans for my next lesson. Unless you needed her," she added, addressing her husband.

He sighed. "No, it's fine. I'll see you in a little bit." His wife gave him a knowing look, and the two women left the room.

As soon as they were gone, he turned to Owen. "What the hell was that?"

"Sir?"

"Don't play dumb, Owen. You practically provoked Goliath!"

He blinked. "Forgive me, sir. I rather thought he overreacted to Molly's presence."

"Funny. And I thought you were the one who was overreacting."

"Sir, I merely –"

"Can I trust your judgment when it comes to this woman, Owen? Molly, Banshee, whatever she calls herself –"

"I have_ always_ been loyal to you, sir. I have always looked after your best interests." There was a slight edge to his voice, and he looked at Xanatos, not with anger or hostility, but simply as if he would remind the man what that loyalty had cost him. To his credit, Xanatos looked away, and when he continued, it was in a softer tone.

"What is she to you, exactly?"

Owen looked slightly taken aback by the question, but answered quickly enough. "A fellow employee. An acquaintance."

Xanatos gave him a disbelieving look. "I'd say she's a little more than an acquaintance. Titania told us the two of you spent a lot of time together after your people were exiled from Avalon."

Owen's gaze slid away from him and settled on the floor. "The Queen exaggerates. It wasn't that long. Really no more than a century or two." _Or six. But who's counting?_

"A century or two," Xanatos echoed sarcastically. "What is that, like a fling to you people?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Fling?"

"Come on Owen, it's –"

"It was a _long_ time ago," Owen said firmly. "Sir," he added more deferentially.

For a moment, Xanatos was tempted to press the matter further. But only for a moment. After all the man had done for him … "Alright then."

"I apologize if I overstepped my bounds in addressing Goliath."

"Just don't do it again." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Do you think you could finish this without me?"

"Of course, sir. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

"I intend to. Oh, and Owen?"

"Yes sir?"

"I hope Molly realizes how fortunate she is. Your loyalty is an extremely precious gift to be granted. I should know."

Owen's eyes widened slightly. "Thank you," he said softly.

Xanatos smiled. "You're welcome. Goodnight."


	6. Chapter 6

Siren Song

Chapter 6: Caught

"We could hunt him down for you, lord." – _Seline (Sister of Vengeance/Fury) of the Weird Sisters, to Oberon about Puck, in "The Gathering, Part I."_

"We have you now."

_Seline gave her a feral grin. Mortals would not recognize the real differences between the three sisters, she knew. They could not see them as individuals, assuming they worked only as a unit, as if they were simply three forms sharing one mind, one purpose. And on some level, that was true. Yet even now, after all these centuries, they still remained, in a deeper sense, separate entities. Their collective actions simply depended on who was in ascendance at a specific time. Silver-haired Luna was Fate; golden-haired Phoebe was Grace._

_Raven-haired Seline, meanwhile, had always been all about rage and revenge. Having had her own very personal experiences with such feelings, the Banshee might actually have been able to understand and admire the Sister's predatory nature._

_Of course, that was rather difficult to do at the moment, since said nature was now directed at her._

"I won't go back!"_ She shrieked, and they all cringed, covering their ears. It was quite satisfying to see them cowed. But they were not mortal, so unfortunately, it didn't last. _

_Phoebe and Luna each grabbed one of her arms, while Seline clamped a hand over her mouth._

"You dare defy the will of our Lord Oberon?"_ Seline hissed. _"You will suffer for this transgression! When we bring you before him –"

"Banshee,"_ Phoebe interjected. _"You have given us a very entertaining hunt. You are a powerful and clever prey."_ She smirked. _"As your … friend Puck would say, it has been a good game."

"Speaking of Puck,"_ Luna continued. _"Perhaps an understanding can be reached."

"We have been unable to locate him,"_ Seline explained, her frustration evident._

That's because he's too clever for you._ The Banshee would have gladly voiced the thought, had Seline's hand not still covered her mouth. One characteristic all three Sisters shared was arrogance. Good for Puck, showing them they weren't as smart as they thought they were. They'd been in the same city as he was in, more than once, and they hadn't even noticed him in his mortal guise. _Fools.

"We suspect you may know where he is,"_ Phoebe said gently. _"If you would be so kind as to tell us, we promise to recommend leniency when we bring you before Oberon."_ She nodded to Seline, who reluctantly removed her hand._

"What say you to this?"_ Luna asked._

_The Banshee was silent._

"Well?" _Seline prodded irritably._

"I say …"_ the Banshee began slowly, _"that I … have no idea where Puck is."

"Liar!" _Seline shouted._ "You will tell us what you know, or I will –"

"I will tell you nothing, harpy!"_ The Banshee shrieked at her._

"How dare you –"

"You can't stand it, can you Seline? The thought that the Puck outwitted you? Go ahead, drag me back to Avalon; the only tale I will tell will be the story of your humiliation at his hands!"

"I am going to rip out your throat!" _Seline lunged for her, but her sisters held her back._

"Now, now,"_ Phoebe chided. _"There is no need for such hostility."

"Banshee, we ask you to reconsider,"_ Luna continued. _"Think of your own best interests."

"Just tell us where Puck is,"_ Phoebe said sweetly. _"If you do, Lord Oberon will be so pleased with you, he may even forget to punish you for ignoring the summons to The Gathering."

"And if you don't tell us,"_ Seline said malevolently, _"I can promise you, I will personally recommend that Lord Oberon make your punishment most appropriately _unpleasant_."

_Fear and dread curled in the pit of the Banshee's stomach. It would be so easy to just tell them. It wasn't as though she'd made Puck any promises; it wasn't as though she owed him anything._

_But …_

"I will tell you nothing,"_ she whispered._

_Seline looked as if she were ready to go off on another rant, but Phoebe silenced her with a gesture._

"Very well, then."_ Luna said. _"Your decision is clear. Now we will take you home to face judgment."

_She had still struggled of course, futile though it was. It had been stupid, really, not to simply reveal his location. If the Sisters didn't find him, Oberon certainly would. Puck had always been one of his favorites, but over the centuries, the Lord of Avalon had grown to be more annoyed than amused by the trickster's playful defiance. For all she knew, Oberon had already taken care of the matter himself, and Puck would be there she and the Sisters arrived on Avalon._

_Of course, that hadn't been what actually had happened. Not even close._

She stood behind him now, watching as he set the little child back down in his crib. For the moment, he was himself, having just finished giving Alexander another magic lesson. It was the first time she had seen him like this, ever since she'd come to warn him about the Gathering. She found herself rather pleased to see him in his true form.

The boy's parents had gone out for the evening; she was supposed to have another lesson with Fox for tomorrow, so she had prepared for that, and then busied herself with work for the company, until her mortal body began to tire.

She wasn't quite sure why she had come down here instead of simply going to bed; she wasn't even sure if she would be permitted in the nursery. The Xanatoses still did not entirely trust her – which was fair enough, she supposed.

Not like Puck. Not only did they trust him with their business, they trusted him with their son.

Puck, for his part, seemed quite fond of the boy – even if, at the moment, he was being unusually fussy.

"Hush," he was saying to the child. "That's enough magic for one night, my boy. You need to sleep now."

"You get him all excited with your antics, Puck, and then you expect him to sleep?" He turned then, looking at her. Like him, she had reverted, at least for the moment, to her true form. He supposed she could still do that whenever she wanted. It had been several weeks since she'd been here though, and he had yet to see her outside of her mortal guise. It probably took more effort to revert than it had before. Still, it was rather nice to see her like this again.

"I don't recall you being an expert on child care," he said to her.

"I don't need to be an expert," she scoffed, walking over to him. "It's common sense."

"Common sense is overrated – oh, Alex," Puck said, as the child began to cry. "Come on, it's bed time. You're giving your poor Uncle Puck a headache."

"No sleep! More magic!"

"Isn't he a bit young to be talking?" The Banshee asked, now standing beside him at the crib.

"Yes, but he's far more advanced than a normal mortal child his age would be," Puck explained, sounding proud.

The child looked up at her. His eyes were wide, but he didn't seem frightened, just curious. He reached his hands up towards her. "Fly?"

"Isn't he cute? See, he likes you. Make him fly around the room, he'll get a big kick out of that."

"Oh yes, Puck. Get him even more riled than he already is. He'll be sure to sleep after that. Brilliant strategy."

"Fly!" Alex said firmly, and began to wail. Puck sighed.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." She leaned down, slightly hesitant. She hoped he wouldn't make too much of this_. _

"_Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep. Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep."_

She sang the words softly. She'd barely begun when the boy's eyelids starting drooping. By the time she finished, he was already sleeping, with a contented smile on his face. They stood side by side, watching the now-peaceful child.

"I have not heard you sing like that for a very long time," Puck said quietly. She shrugged.

"It was nothing."

"It was beautiful."

"Yes, well." She paused. "In any case, it seems to have worked." She looked down at the peaceful infant, unable to keep from smiling. Puck grinned.

"You like him."

"Oh hush."

"You like _them_. I told you they were never dull. Admit it, you're having fun here."

"Maybe," she said grudgingly. "A little. But …"

"What?"

"Puck, I … I miss home."

His grin faded. "Me too," he said simply. He sighed. "It's ironic, I suppose. We didn't want to go back when we could, but now that we can't … oh, don't look so sad, my little siren. After all, _you_ still have a chance of going back someday."

"Don't call me that," she said automatically. "And besides, even if I could go back, it wouldn't be the same without …" She trailed off. Puck cocked his head at her.

"What?"

"Never mind." Her gaze went back to the sleeping infant.

"He _is_ cute, isn't he?" Puck whispered.

Wordlessly, she laid her head on Puck's shoulder. She felt his arm slip around her waist.

"Missed you." He murmured.

"Hush."

Behind them, someone pointedly cleared their throat.

As was their habit whenever they went out, Xanatos and Fox had come to check on their son before going to bed, and had been greeted by a most unusual sight. For starters, their son's tutor normally didn't let them catch him in his true form. And besides the brief flash Xanatos had seen when she was first summoned, neither of them had seen what the Banshee actually looked like.

Both of them stiffened, drawing a part from each other. By the time they turned around, they were back in their human forms. Molly's eyes darted between them, noting Xanatos' expression. Fox had a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry – we – I was just –"

"No, no it's fine," Fox said, talking at the same time she did.

"Excuse me, I should go." She hurried out the room, leaving the three of them standing there. Both of the parents rushed over to their son's crib.

"He's fine," Xanatos sighed.

"Of course he is," Owen said, sounding as though he was working hard to keep his tone neutral.

"Why was she in here? What happened, exactly?"

He took a deep breath. "I don't think there was any particular reason. She came in as I was trying to get him to sleep. She sang to him, and he dozed off."

"That's all?"

"That's all. Forgive me, sir, I did not realize you did not wish her to enter the nursery."

"No Owen, it's not that, we were just a bit startled," Fox said. She elbowed her husband, who winced slightly.

"It was just a bit … disconcerting." He offered half-heartedly.

Owen looked up at him. His expression did not change, carefully crafted as it was to give no trace of his thoughts, but eyes … well, his eyes were very bright.

"Surely, sir, if you can trust her with your wife, you can also trust her with your son?" He sounded almost pleading.

Xanatos looked at his wife, who nodded. He turned back to Owen.

"I trust you, Owen. That's enough for now. But if she feels slighted, you can make our apologies to her."

Owen's jaw clenched, and he swallowed. "Of course, sir," he said stiffly. He nodded and left the room.

Fox put her hand to her husband's face. "David …"

"I don't like it Fox, I just don't like it. You saw them just now; you see how they are whenever they're around each other."

"They're the only two of their kind left in our world. It's only natural they'd be drawn together."

"There's more to it than that. I think she means more to him than he's willing to admit."

Fox smiled. "Sounds like someone I know. Or used to know."

"Fox –"

"Would it really be so terrible, David? If they are – whatever they are to each other – what's so wrong about them not wanting to face exile alone?"

He sighed. "I just worry. I even worry for him, if that makes sense. I've been reading up on her, you know. If the legends surrounding her are true, she's done some pretty dark things."

"So have you," Fox countered. "So have I. For that matter so has Owen, probably not even counting all the shady dealings he's helped you with."

Despite himself, Xanatos smiled, feeling his mood begin to lighten slightly. "So we should just accept her as a kindred spirit?"

"No, but we should keep and open mind and trust Owen's judgment."

"Fair enough." He wrapped his arms around his wife. "And apparently she did calm our fussy son, that's got to count for something."

They were silent for a moment. "This time I overreacted," he muttered to himself.

"What?"

"I think I might need to apologize in person."

"Tomorrow," Fox advised. "Let things blow over first."

Meanwhile, Owen was following Molly, who was striding through the corridors.

"Wait –"

She ignored him, not stopping until she got to her living quarters. In her bedroom, she started pulling clothes out of her drawers and tossing them on the bed. He followed her in.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" She pulled a suitcase out from under the bed. "I'm leaving."

"You're overreacting –"

"Did you see the looks on their faces?"

"It wasn't that bad."

She yanked open another drawer. "Yes it was."

"Stop this, you're not going anywhere."

She turned then, glaring at him. "I don't take orders from you! And there's no magic binding me to these people. I can go where I want, when I want, even if you can't."

She could see that the remark had stung, and she felt a flash of regret. But she was far too proud to apologize to him.

"Yes," he said softly. "You can."

"That's right, I can," she snapped, folding a shirt and placing in the suitcase. Such a mundane task, but then, she probably shouldn't waste her now-limited magic on a simple thing like this.

"I would rather you stayed," he said softly. She looked up at him then.

"Would you?"

"Yes," he said. "Please," he added.

Her eyes widened. She tried to recall the last time he'd used that word with her.

She couldn't.

She let out a sigh. "Maybe I was overreacting. Alright. I'll stay."

"Thank you." They both stood there for a moment, not looking at each other.

"Puck?"

"Yes?"

She moved over to him until they were standing face to face. She touched his hand, briefly, the one she'd healed.

"Missed you too."

He smiled slightly. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," she echoed softly. Their gazes locked and held for a long moment.

Then he turned and left the room.

She let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and started to put her clothes back where they belonged.


	7. Chapter 7

Siren Song

Chapter 7: Home

"I like it here." – _The Banshee, in "The Hound of Ulster."_

"Molly, could I speak to you for a minute?"

Both Molly and Owen glanced up. They had been sitting in Owen's office, absorbed in their work, occasionally tossing some ideas around, but mostly just quietly perusing the latest test results for the "Restoration Project," and taking notes. Although she hadn't shown it, inwardly, she was slightly amused. Over their previous centuries together, there had been many different ways in which they'd passed the time, most of them fairly exciting, or at least amusing.

And of course, there had always been those times in which they had been …

No. She wasn't going to think about that.

In any case, she would never have pictured the two of them like this, acting like mundane mortals, preoccupied with being dutiful, droning employees. And yet somehow it wasn't tedious. She had just looked up at him, catching sight of a small smile which she couldn't help but return, knowing his thoughts mirrored her own, when Xanatos' voice intruded on them.

Suppressing a frown, she turned to him with what she hoped was an appropriately guileless expression.

"Yes, of course. What can I do for you?"

He cleared his throat. He wasn't good at apologies; the simple fact was he didn't do them very often. "I just wanted to let you know … I'm sorry if we made you feel … unwelcome last night."

"It's fine," Molly said quickly, averting her gaze. "I understand. You don't know me, and it's your son. You're protective. It's only natural."

"It's just, you have to understand, the last time one of your people was hovering like that over our son's crib, it was Oberon, and he was trying to take him away from us."

She flinched slightly, and he realized too late that mentioning Oberon had been a bad move. "Really, it's okay, I get it," she said. Then she added, more softly, surprising herself somewhat: "Thank you." When had she started to care what these mortals thought of her? But she didn't, she reminder herself. Not really.

Xanatos smiled. "You're welcome. So, how's the project coming along?"

"It's been slow going so far …" Molly began.

"But we are making significant progress," Owen finished for her.

"Good, well, keep me apprised." He turned to leave, and then paused at the doorway. "By the way, you two will be attending the Christmas Party we're having in a few days, right?"

The two fay exchanged glances. "I had forgotten about that," Owen said.

"I had forgotten about Christmas," Molly added, shrugging. "Remember when it just used to be Winter Solstice?" She was addressing Owen now.

"Hmm." Owen smiled at her in a way Xanatos could only describe at conspiratorial. "More interesting back then, certainly."

"Excuse me," Xanatos interjected, and they both turned back to him, somewhat apologetically. "You will be coming then, I assume?"

Molly hesitated. "Will your gargoyle friends be there?"

"I've extended them an invitation. Some or all of them may make an appearance, though I suspect if they do, it will be brief. I doubt they'll react to you unless you confront them."

"I have no plans for doing that," Molly muttered.

"Good, then it's settled. I'll see you both there. For now, I'll let you back to work."

"Thank you, sir." Owen said. Xanatos knew he wasn't really expressing gratitude for the invitation, but for what he'd just said to Molly. He nodded in acknowledgment and left the room.

He thought, not for the first time, about the subtle and not-so-subtle differences in Owen's behavior when he was around Molly. There had been times, after he'd revealed himself, when Xanatos he had thought he caught flashes of the wild, mischievous being beneath the stoic façade, but those instances had been few and far between.

Now that Molly – Banshee – was here, those times had become more frequent, and more pronounced. He supposed that wasn't a problem, as long as it didn't interfere with Owen's work. But still he worried, and not just about his family. He had to admit to himself that this man wasn't just his employee; he was his friend.

"If she hurts him, I'll find a way to make her suffer," he muttered.

"Here." Molly handed him a drink, and he accepted it rather gratefully, taking a swig and letting the alcohol burn his throat. She was already nursing a second one herself – or was it her third? Not that he could blame her, she supposed. It had been a rather long night.

Surprisingly, the gargoyles were making an extended appearance, along with Detective Elisa Maza. Owen could only be grateful they'd decided to leave Bronx with Hudson, up on the castle parapets. _I really should have just turned him into a chihuahua and kept him that way._

They had both been keeping a low profile, occasionally conversing with each other, but mostly just observing the rather muted festivities. Owen knew Xanatos had organized this little gathering in an effort to try and ease the remaining tensions between them and the Manhattan Clan. The atmosphere wasn't exactly joyful, but at least there wasn't the sense that blood could be spilled at any moment. He supposed that was progress.

Occasionally, Goliath would glance over in their direction and scowl. Owen would return the favor, and Molly would either look resolutely at the floor or give him a carefully blank expression. The trio threw similar looks their way, while Detective Maza seemed to be too busy talking with all of them to spare a glance in their direction. And then there was Angela, who also kept glancing over at them, but she looked more curious than angry. In fact, he was starting to get worried she might come over here …

As if that were a cue, the young female gargoyle suddenly made a beeline for Molly. Instinctively, he moved to stand between them, but Molly put a hand on his arm, muttering that she could take care of herself, _thank you_, and he fell back as they came face to face. What little conversation there was in the room died down to nearly nothing.

"May I speak with you for a moment? Privately?" All things considered, Angela's tone was surprisingly mild. Still, he didn't like it. "Don't worry," she added, turning to him. "I'm not going to hurt her."

Were his thoughts so easy to read on his face? He said nothing, but merely nodded, quickly schooling his features into what he hoped was a more neutral expression. Still, his eyes followed them as they left, to talk outside on one of the balconies.

Molly just stood there for a moment, watching the snow fall. "This is still so different to me," Angela said. "It was always summer in Avalon."

"Yes," Molly said, and there was a sadness in her voice that Angela couldn't fathom. "Yes, it was. But it would snow, if he wished it."

Angela didn't have to ask to whom she was referring. For a moment, they were both silent.

"What do you want?" Molly asked. She was not looking at her, but staring out into the night. The thought struck Angela that in this form, she looked rather small, even vulnerable. Of course, she had learned appearances could be deceiving.

"An apology would be nice."

Molly gave a derisive snort. "What is there to say? I was mistaken as to your intentions. I was cruel. I was desperate. I played my part."

"What do you mean? What part?"

Molly turned to her, smiling bitterly. "Why, the part of the villain of course. Where would the hero be without a nemesis to vanquish?"

"You're saying that's why you did it all? Why you threatened Ireland all those years ago, why you tried to hurt us, why you tried to stop Cu Chullain again? So a hero could rise to meet his true potential?"

Molly shrugged.

"I don't believe that. There's more to it."

"What makes you think you're so wise, child?"

"I'm not a child."

"You are to me." She leaned out over the balcony, letting the wind whip her hair. She was getting cold, but she didn't care.

"What is it you want to know? Why do my reasons matter to you?"

"I want to understand. And I'd … I'd like to believe that people are capable of change." _People like my mother._

Molly gave her a perceptive, sidelong glance, causing Angela to wonder how much she knew about Demona, if she knew of her at all.

"Well, if it's really that important to you, I'll give you the short version: I came to Ireland long ago, before Oberon banished us all from Avalon for a thousand years. I liked it there. I liked the people, I liked the land. It was familiar enough to remind me of Avalon when I was away, and different enough to hold my interest. But then the people began to fear me."

"Why?"

"Because I could sense death. Some of the mortals, I had grown fond of, watching them, watching their lives, and so I would … cry out, in grief, when they were about to die. Which was a mistake, as it turned out. For, rather than realizing that I merely sensed death, mortals began to conclude that I was the cause of death. One day, some of those mortals caught me. They bound me to a tree with iron. They sealed…"

She paused. She swallowed, closing her eyes, and pressed a hand to her mouth. It was a moment before she could continue. "They sealed an iron plate on my mouth." She shuddered. "Then they left me there. It was horrible. I don't know how long I stayed like that. It seemed liked centuries."

Angela's voice was low. "How did you get free?"

"Eventually, the metal corroded and fell away. I was able to move again, to breathe again, at last. But I was driven mad with pain, with rage…"

"And that's why you threatened the island. You wanted revenge."

"Yes," she admitted.

"But Cu Cullhain defeated you."

She smiled, almost fondly. "Indeed. Though I rather think I put up a valiant struggle. And to his credit, he didn't use iron to fight me. I returned to Avalon after that. But then the banishment decree came."

"And you went back to Ireland," Angela concluded. But Molly shook her head.

"Not right away. I spent some time traveling with … I spent some time traveling. But yes, eventually I returned there. Then I realized that little mortal Rory Dugan was the reincarnation of Cu Cullhain, and I feared the cycle would begin all over again. He would fight me and drive me from Ireland. And I wished to stay, because it had become home. So I took this mortal guise and tried to keep him from learning who he really was. And then you came, and I was so sure Oberon had sent you … everything felt like it was falling apart … I just … well, what else is there to say?" Again, she shrugged. "I lost Ireland, and then I lost Avalon. And now I am … here."

Angela was silent for a moment. "It's a sad story," she conceded softly. "I just don't know if I should believe it."

Molly heaved a sigh. "Then don't believe it. Or do. I don't care. You asked, and I answered truthfully." She felt drained from their conversation, from the memories it brought back, and the cold was starting to get to her. She rested her head in her hands. She felt tired. "Was there anything else?"

"No." Angela said. And then: "See, I told you I wouldn't hurt her. I just wanted to talk. I wanted to get her side of things."

Molly looked up to see who she was addressing, and saw Owen standing behind them. "I told you I can take care of myself," she snapped.

He said nothing, just looked at her with those eyes that always seemed bright and clear and impossibly blue, revealing his irrepressible and immortal nature to her no matter what he made himself look like. She would know him no matter what his form.

"I'm … going back inside," Angela said, her eyes darting between the two of them. Owen nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on Molly.

When Angela was gone, she turned away from him, looking out into the night. "How long were you standing there?" She spoke softly, trusting the wind to carry her words back to him.

"Long enough. I can't believe you told her that story. The real story."

Molly let out a bitter laugh. "Oh please. She doesn't even believe it's the truth."

He moved until he was standing behind her. "She wants to believe."

"I don't care anyway."

"Why must you always pretend you don't care what mortals think of you? It is not such a terrible thing to value their opinions. Though I suppose it does depend on the mortals in question." When she was silent, he continued. "Come back inside."

She shook her head. "Not just yet."

"It's cold out here, little siren."

"Don't call me that. Besides, it's not that cold."

"You're shivering." He wrapped his arms around her from behind. She sighed, leaning back into his embrace.

"Impertinent," she muttered half-heartedly.

"Stubborn," he countered. "You should come back inside where it's warm."

"Not yet, not yet."

"Sing something, then." He sounded almost pleading. "Sing something to keep off the cold."

So she sang, softly and sweetly. Only for a little while, but it was enough, and they felt warmer.

She turned in his arms, leaning her head against his chest. "I wish you had your flute, Puck."

"So do I."

They stayed like that for a while, until they heard footsteps approaching.

"Hey, you two. I was wondering where you are." Fox said. They looked up to see her standing there, smiling slightly, and they gently let go of each other.

Owen cleared his throat. "I suppose we should return to the party."

Fox shook her head. "Oh, the party's over. Everyone's gone home. We were actually beginning to worry, but before she left, Angela mentioned you guys were still out on the balcony as far as she knew."

"Sorry," Molly said.

"Oh, it's no big deal. It's not like this little get-together was a huge success anyway."

"Not precisely a failure, either," Owen remarked. Fox shrugged.

"Eh, it's a wash, I guess. Come back inside. Molly, Alex is being fussy." She laughed softly. "Must be the holiday spirit or something, getting into him. Maybe you could sing him to sleep, like you did before?"

"I … are you sure?"

"If you don't mind."

"No, of course not."

They followed her inside, and then Molly went with Fox to the nursery. Xanatos was standing in a corner, a drink in his hand. Looking at Owen, he raised his glass.

"To … Winter Solstice."

Owen's lips twitched. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, my friend." Owen paused then. He titled his head at Xanatos, looking at him in a curious, almost Puck-like way. Then he merely smiled, and left the room.

Far beneath them, a young man was standing on the street. His hair was black and long, drawn back into a ponytail. His skin was dark brown. Only a discerning observer would also notice that his features were distinctively elvish.

As it was, the few people who had been out on this cold night carefully avoided him, because he appeared to be conversing with thin air. They could not see what he saw: a stately woman dressed in black, with skin that seemed whiter that the snow around her, and a voice that sounded like stone.

"They are here then, Raven?" She asked him. "The ones my son banished?"

He nodded. "Yes, my queen."

"They took no note of you."

He nodded again. "Your spells shielded me. I wasn't visible to anyone, not even them."

"And the child?"

"He is here as well."

She smiled, revealing an even row of sharp, pointed teeth. "Good, very good. We will move soon. You have done well, Raven. When this is all over, you will be rewarded. When I am restored to my rightful place, you will have whatever you want, in the mortal realm or out of it. With the child in my possession, it will not take long to overthrow my son."

He nodded again. It was really all he could do at this point. "Yes, Queen Mab. I understand."

*Author's Note 1: The events in this chapter (and the next one) are based, in part, on two things apparently revealed by series creator Greg Weisman: that Raven was going to kidnap Alexander at some point, and that Mab, Oberon's mother and predecessor as ruler of the Third Race, would eventually escape from wherever she'd been imprisoned after he defeated her. I decided to take those two ideas and tie them together into one plot.

**Author's Note 2: Some of you may feel I shouldn't try to "soften" the Banshee too much by giving her the more sympathetic back story presented here, and that's fair enough. However, keep in mind some of her story (getting attached to mortals and wailing when they are about to die) is part of the actual myth involving banshees. And I wanted to give her a more complex motivation than "Eh, I just like to screw with mortals and be evil," because I think it makes her more interesting.


	8. Chapter 8

Siren Song

Chapter 8: Unleashed

"When the Banshee keens, men die!" – _The Banshee, in "The Hound of Ulster."_

Author's Note: Please review if you want me to keep this thing going. I'm not sure if I should continue.

_There was nothing they could do._

_Once Oberon made his decree, they had to leave. The skiffs went out from Avalon, most of them containing two or three at a time. There were a few exceptions of course; Titania and Oberon each had separate vessels of their own._

_He spotted Queen Titania in hers, before it left the shore. Her arms were folded, and she sat stiff and proud, not meeting Oberon's eye. As Puck watched, the Lord of Avalon looked almost apologetic._

"It does not have to be this way, my queen."_ He was saying._

"It is as you decreed it,"_ Titania replied, her voice cold. _"You commanded that we live among mortals, and so we shall."

"Yes, but you and I … we do not have to spend the time apart. We can live in the mortal world together. I can teach you why it is wrong to have such disdain for them. Come now, why should Titania cross her Oberon?*"

_Titania glared at him. _"Cross you? _You _were the one who divorced _me_,"_ she hissed. _"I may have still have to follow your commands, but I am no longer your wife! If I must travel in the mortal world, then I will do it alone. I neither need nor desire your company."

_For a moment, Oberon looked stricken, and then his expression hardened. _"Very well,"_ he snapped, and pushed her boat out into the water. His eyes roamed the shoreline, watching his Children leave, and when the sullen gaze of his lord fell on him, Puck hastily got into his own boat as it pushed out._

_Beside him sat the Banshee, looking as miserable as he felt. Sure, Avalon could get boring sometimes, but nobody really wanted to be exiled from it, especially when they didn't know how long the exile would last. Of all the fair folk, only the Weird Sisters had been allowed to stay behind, and even they were confined to a barge floating off the shore, not being able to set foot on the land._

"I can't believe we all got kicked out of Avalon because of a stupid lover's quarrel," _Puck muttered, more to himself than to her. Oh sure, Oberon had said it had something to do with Titania's contempt for mortals (her latest demonstration of such apparently being the last straw), but did that really mean the rest of them had to suffer?_ "Honestly, sometimes I think love is the most ridiculous thing in world. They really should leave all that foolishness to the mortals, where it belongs."

_He turned to look at the Banshee, only to find she was crying – something he'd never seen her do before. He found he didn't like it all._

"Oh hush now, little siren," _he said putting his arm around her. When she didn't automatically correct his use of the nickname, he knew it was bad. _"I'm sure we'll be able to come back, someday. And there's lots of fun to be had amongst mortals, remember? You'll see, after a few centuries and we won't even miss Avalon."

_She said nothing, but leaned against him. He rather wished she'd snap at him, or tell him he was impertinent, or something. _

"Puck, you better make sure she doesn't start wailing. It's bad enough we're banished, I don't need that little shrew of yours making my ears bleed." _Puck turned to see Raven sneering at them from where he sat is his own skiff._

"Shut up," _Puck snapped, for once unable to think of a witty comeback._

"Honestly, the way she's carrying on, you'd think somebody _died_ or something_." He smirked, apparently amused at his own joke._

"Oh ha ha," _Puck said dryly._ "Been saving that one, have you? Besides which, you're not exactly dry-eyed yourself." _And indeed, there were tears in Raven's eyes. At Puck's comment, he angrily wiped them away._

"This is the fault of the mortals," _he declared darkly._ "I'm going to make them pay for this."

_Beside him in his skiff, the one who called herself Grandmother reminded him,_ "We are forbidden from directly interfering in mortal affairs."

_Raven gave her a nasty smile._ "The key word being 'directly.' I'll find a way to exploit that loophole, I assure you."

_Her expression hardened. _"Not if I can help it."

_Puck was starting to get worried he would have to listen to this until they finally reached land, but thankfully, Raven fell silent. There was the occasional sound of sobs (several of the Children besides Banshee were weeping not-so-silently over the loss of Avalon), and every so often one of the boats would disappear into the mists. Puck thought perhaps Oberon did not want all of them landing in the same places in the mortal realm. It made sense, he guessed, since they were supposed to learn about and from mortals, not gather together and complain about their exile._

_Puck sighed, putting his head down, closing his eyes for a moment. When he looked back up, the other skiffs were gone, and they were approaching land. He looked over at his companion. She still seemed fairly miserable, but at least she had stopped crying._

_Puck hopped out and pulled the skiff onto the shore. He held out his hand to her._

"Well come on then,"_ he said._

_She looked at his hand, and then turned her head away._

"No,"_ she said._

_Puck blinked. _"What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here."

"In the boat? Banshee, we're exiled for who knows how long! What are you going to do, sit there for the next millennium or so until it's time to go back home?"

"Why not?"

"That is … that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Get out of the boat right now!"

"I do not take orders from you! This place isn't Avalon, this place isn't even Ireland!"

"Oh for … you've _done _Ireland already. Try something different for once, you stubborn creature. Now come on."

Puck grabbed at her hand, trying to physically pull her out. She resisted, and he pulled harder.

"Come _on_!" _He must have used more force than he realized, because she wound up sprawled on the ground beside him, while he himself was flat on his back. As soon as she left it, the boat disappeared._

_Catching sight of her in such disarray, Puck just couldn't help it. The laughter bubbled up in his throat and spilled out. _

_She glared at him. _"Puck, this is not funny!" _She snapped, but he only laughed harder._

"Yes it is."

_The Banshee's lip twitched. She wished Puck's merriment wasn't so contagious. She always felt like she had to steel herself against giving him the satisfaction of seeing her laugh at his antics. Puck stood, making a show of dusting himself off. Then he offered her his hand with an exaggerated flourish._

_The Banshee rolled her eyes, but grasped his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. Once they were eye level, she pulled back from him slightly, clearing her throat._

"Where are we, anyway?"

_Puck grinned at her. "_Dunno. Come on, let's find out, see how much trouble we can get into."_ Before she could protest, he'd grabbed hold of her hand, and they were flying through the air._

"See, I told you it work."

"Yeah, you were right. But I don't know, I just feel kind of silly. I mean, the whole rhyming thing, is it really necessary?"

She and Fox were had just finished their latest lesson. They'd practiced simple spells, like summoning objects, creating light, a few small-scale transformations, things of that nature. She had been doing well, to the point where Molly was certain that next time they'd go on to something bigger, maybe even weather manipulation.

"Well, giving the language a certain rhythm and cadence helps to focus the magic," she answered. "It makes things easier, especially for a halfing like you … no offense," she added hastily.

Fox smiled. "None taken. Do you use a lot of rhyming yourself?"

Molly shook her head. "Not as much as others might, but it can be useful at times. We all have different strengths and abilities."

"Well I suppose I'll get used to it," Fox said amiably. Then she frowned as Molly gave a sudden shiver. "Um, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Molly swallowed. "It's your father." Fox's eyes widened.

"What?"

At that moment, Xanatos came hurrying in. "Fox, we just got a call from the hospital. Your father's there, and it looks bad. We need to go right now."

Fox visibly paled and turned to Molly. At least she didn't seem angry, just shocked. "How did you know?" She whispered.

"I can sense …" _Death. I can sense death._ "I can sense these sorts of things."

"We need to go now. Fox, Owen has the car waiting outside. I'll join you in a minute." As his shaken wife hurried downstairs, Xanatos approached Molly.

"You can sense death," he said bluntly.

She nodded. "Yes."

"Is he going to make it?"

She paused, and then answered reluctantly. "No. I'm sorry. Perhaps … perhaps you had better take Alex with you? So he can see his grandfather one last time?"

Xanatos appeared to consider; he seemed rather out of his element, Molly thought. "You're probably right. Come on." He turned to leave.

"You … you want me to go with you?"

"If it bothers you –"

"No, I just thought this was a private matter. A family matter."

"It is. But Owen is part of this family, and you matter a great deal to him. Besides, I'd like the both of there, in case we get any unexpected guests who try to take advantage of the situation."

He was probably thinking of Titania, she knew. Still, it felt so strange to be included like this. Long ago, she'd attached herself to mortal families, considered them to be her adopted kin, grieved when one of them was about to die, and wound up being tortured because of it. How could she open herself up to that kind of pain again?

But it would be different this time. Puck would be there.

"All right," she whispered, and they went to get the child.

A short while later, they were all in the car. For the moment, no one spoke; the Xanatoses were in the back with Alexander securely in a car seat, while she had elected to sit in front with Owen. His expression remained grim. He drove as fast as he safely could, and when they hit a stop light, Molly heard Fox swear from the back of the car, and then her husband saying something conciliatory.

They arrived at the hospital and hurried out the car, Xanatos with the baby in his arms. They were quickly escorted to the room of Halcyon Renard. Preston Vogel was there, the man Puck had modeled his current guise on, which she might have found interesting or amusing under other circumstances.

A doctor was also present, who murmured discreetly in Xanatos' ear before leaving the room, and Molly knew she was probably telling them what she was already sensing; Renard had only been holding on so he could say goodbye. The man didn't have much time.

"Janine?" Renard called weakly, and Fox rushed to his side, clasping his hand.

"I'm here, daddy. I'm right here."

"Where's that scoundrel husband of yours?" He managed to ask. Fox laughed weakly, and Xanatos stepped forward.

"Right here, sir."

"You better take damn good care of my Janine and my grandson, do you hear me? Because if you don't I will personally come back from the grave and make sure you pay for it."

"Daddy, don't talk like that," Fox interjected, her voice quavering. "You're going to be fine."

But Renard's eyes were focused on Xanatos. "I rather think your word means more than it did before. So I want your word that you'll keep them safe."

"Of course I will, sir."

"Good." The man let out a wheezy breath.

From outside, came the sound of swooping wings, and the humans looked up at the window to see the form of Goliath. No one was particularly surprised, and although Molly was less than pleased, she muttered a spell under her breath, and he was transported into the room. He was a bit disoriented for a moment, and then looked at her, seeming to realize what she'd done, nodding curtly in acknowledgement.

Renard smiled weakly. "Hello, Goliath."

The gargoyle smiled back. "Hello, my friend."

"Make sure that villain over there stays in line, would you? I don't want him brewing up trouble for my family."

"Oh, and here I thought you were warming up to me, Halcyon," Xanatos said mildly.

"I will do as you ask," Goliath said.

"Thank you." He let out another painful breath. _Not much longer now_, she thought. "I wish…"

"I'm here, Halcyon."

They all turned to see Queen Titania standing there, in her mortal guise. Xanatos didn't look pleased, but he said nothing.

"Anastasia?" Renard asked.

"Yes, it's me." She approached him and stroked his face tenderly, the air around them shimmering slightly.

"What is she doing?" Fox whispered.

"She's just taking his pain away," Molly explained. "He'll pass peacefully now."

Fox's eyes filled with tears. "I don't want him to die."

Without thinking, Molly put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"I still … love you …" Renard was saying. His ex-wife smiled.

"You were very good to me, my dear. We created a beautiful child together. I will always be grateful for that. I loved you very much, and part of me loves you still. Part of me always will."

She leaned down, and kissed his forehead. Then she stepped back slightly. Molly moved so the woman could put her arms around her daughter, who was openly crying now.

After that, it was just a matter of time. His eyes closed, his breathing slowed, and then, finally ceased. The hospital machine indicated he had no pulse, and Molly quickly transported Goliath back outside before the doctors came in the room to call time of death.

Everyone except Fox and her mother left the room, allowing the two women one final moment with the man who had meant so much to both of them. Molly sighed, leaning against the wall. She'd forgotten how exhausting mortal grief was, how being around it made her feel.

After a moment, they came out, both wiping tears from their eyes. Fox rushed to her husband, who took her comfortingly in his arms, and the queen approached her.

"Walk with me a moment," she said.

Molly nodded, and they moved slowly down the hall, away from the rest of the group.

"I did not tell them the truth of how you came to be banished, Banshee. At least, not the whole truth."

She nodded. "I suspected as much, and I appreciate that. Thank you, my queen."

"There is something that I wanted Puck to have … but I think it would be better if it came from you." She looked down, to see the queen holding Puck's flute.

With pleased surprise, Molly took it from her. "As you wish. I will give it to him."

"You should tell him, you know," Titania said gently.

Molly looked away. "There is nothing to tell."

"I know better than that." Titania said. "Besides, he might surprise you."

Molly said nothing, but put the flute in her pocket, and together they returned to the group. Owen raised an eyebrow at them, but otherwise seemed unconcerned.

"I'm surprised your _husband_ let you come." Fox addressed her mother. There was a bit of venom in her voice now, probably having to do with her grief and the fact that she still didn't quite trust her mother.

"My lord and husband may have his faults, but he does not indulge in petty jealousies. He understands what your father meant to me, Fox, and he respects that." Titania stiffened suddenly, a disconcerted look crossing her features.

"What?" Molly asked.

Her eyes darted between Molly and Owen. "Can you two feel that –"

"Get down!" Owen shouted.

A magical bolt blasted through the hospital wall, and they all fell to the ground. Alex started wailing.

"What the hell was –" Xantaos began.

"Raven!" Molly shouted.

And indeed it was, but something was obviously wrong with him. For starters, he wasn't wearing his usual sneer, and more significantly, his eyes glowed red. When he spoke it was in a hollow, toneless voice:

"Give me the child."

With that, Puck reverted to his true form, and the other two fair folk quickly followed suit. With a scream the Banshee sent him reeling backwards, out into the night. Even with her powers muted, her voice was still a formidable weapon. Along with Puck and Titania, she followed him out.

"How dare you threaten my grandson!"

"You always were a fool, Raven," Puck snarled, looking angrier than she'd ever seen him. "It's three against one, do you really think you have a chance against us?"

Raven smirked, seeming more like himself for a moment. "I'm not the one you have to watch out for. It's the true queen you should fear."

_True queen?_ As she realized what he meant, the Banshee felt dread such as she had not known in centuries. A scream came from the hospital.

Puck was the first back inside, but they were too late. Xanatos and Fox had apparently been knocked back to the floor, along with Vogel. And there, floating above them and holding Alexander, both beautiful and terrible, was the original ruler of the Third Race, Mab.

Not since the Banshee had been imprisoned in iron had she experienced this level of panic. Oberon had never been the perfect leader – he could be vain, hypocritical, and unfair – but in comparison to his mother, he was practically perfect.

Mab was insane, and insanely powerful, and the only reason her son had been able to defeat her was that the majority of their people had sided with him against her, desiring an end to her tumultuous reign. After her defeat, Oberon had imprisoned her, and only he had known where. How she'd managed to escape, the Banshee could not fathom, but she appeared to have Raven in her thrall. And now she had the child as well.

Titania gasped. "Let him go!"

"Don't you dare speak to me, or I will rip him apart," Mab hissed, her eyes glowing with hatred.

"My queen," the Banshee whispered, addressing Titania, "We must –"

"Don't call her that!" Mab shrieked. "She is no queen! She is just the little slut who seduced my son and turned him against me! And now she will finally be made to pay for it!"

Mab directed a blast of magical energy which sent her reeling. Puck took advantage of her focus on Titania to rush at her and attempt to take Alexander back. Mab was extremely powerful, but Puck knew she'd been weakened by her imprisonment, and her rage made her careless.

"Raven!" Mab commanded. "Take care of him!"

He moved to obey, but before Raven could get at Puck, the Banshee intercepted him. They struggled briefly, and the Banshee realized with horror that her muted powers meant she wasn't really a match for him in a prolonged battle. He clamped a hand on her mouth, while the other snaked around her waist, and he leered at her.

"Time to disappear, little shrew."

Mab threw Puck off, and she vanished, along with the child, Raven, and Banshee.

"No!" Puck screamed.

"Where are they?" Fox cried.

"Where did they take our son?" Xanatos demanded.

Mab's blast had knocked Titania out, and now she got up unsteadily. "Not to Avalon," she managed to get out. "There are too many there who would stand against Mab. Puck, Oberon's decree means you have the best chance of finding them."

Puck managed to nod, his expression dark. "Follow me."

"I'm coming with you," Fox said.

"My daughter, it's too dangerous –"

"_It's my son_!"

"It's _our _son, Fox. I'm coming too." He took out a gun. "I've planned for something like this." He sounded extremely shaky, but determined at the same time. He took out a gun. "The bullets are made of iron." He explained.

"But David, it's magic. How can you follow –"

"He can, with your help," Titania said, seeming to accept that neither parent would stay behind. "Fox, take his hand and don't let go. He will be able to move with us. Vogel, you will stay here and explain to the gargoyles what has happened. We may need their help when we track down Mab, and I should be able to summon them."

For a moment, the man merely looked at her with a dazed expression, but then he nodded his understanding.

Puck focused his energy, trying to get a sense of their moments. If anything were to happen to Alex … or to her …

Suddenly it came to him.

"Let's go."

*From Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream," Act II, scene 1, line 487.


	9. Chapter 9

Siren Song

Chapter 9: Shattered Silence

"Release me!" – _The Banshee, in "The Gathering: Part I."_

"Wake up!" _The Banshee opened her eyes, to see Puck's face very near her own. Their kind did not need to sleep nearly as much as mortals did, but eventually, even they needed their rest. She was very groggy, but his proximity was enough to startle her awake. She shoved him away._

"What?" _She demanded irritably._

_Puck bounced up and down excitedly. _"There are mortals in our forest."

_The Banshee shot him a death glare. _"You woke me up just to tell me that?"_ All this time traveling together, and he still hadn't learned not to annoy her. Impertinent little –_

_Ignoring her look, he tugged at her hand. _"Come on, let's go mess with them."

"You go if you want. I'm still tired."_ His face fell._

"Oh come on …"_ he whined. _"You can rest later!"

_The Banshee sighed. _"Puck, you are trying my patience."

"Come on, little siren …"_ he leaned in, his blue eyes sparking with wickedness. _"You know you want to."

_She rolled her eyes. _"Don't call me that, and no, I don't, actually. But if it'll shut you up, fine. I'll at least see what manner of mortals they are."

_Together, they made their way to the forest clearing. The Banshee was not amused by what she saw._

"Really, Puck? This is what you brought me here to see?"

_He frowned. _"What's wrong with it?"

"Well, for starters there are only two mortals here."_ And indeed, it was merely a young human, with a lady who seemed to be about his age. _"How much mischief can you really conjure up?"

"Is that a challenge?"

_She ignored his question. _"What are they doing here anyway?"

"Dunno."

_The Banshee studied them for a moment, watching their interactions, the way that they looked at each other, until the answer became obvious to her: _"They're in love."

_Puck smirked. _"How quaint."

"You really had to wake me to witness this mortal foolishness?"

"Oh now don't get mad, I'm sure there's a few tricks I could play on them to make things interesting. Say, what if I give the boy a donkey's head? Can you imagine her face when –"

"Leave them."

_Puck blinked._ "What?"

"Leave them in peace. They seem … happy."

_Puck looked at her curiously. For a moment it seemed he might argue, but then he merely shrugged._ "As you wish, then. But they won't be nearly as entertaining this way."

_The Banshee turned to contemplate the two mortals. The young man was holding the girl's hand, telling her something which apparently made her blush and smile. Suddenly, he seemed to trip over his own feet, landing in a puddle of mud. Beside her, Puck snickered._

_She shot him a look._ "Was that you?"

"Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Typical." _She turned to see that the young lady was now laughing at her beloved. But instead of being embarrassed or angry, after a moment, he joined her in the laughter._

"See, they have a sense of humor," _Puck said approvingly._

_The girl leaned down to help the boy up, wiping the mud from his face, both of them still giggling. Suddenly they had both stopped laughing and were standing very close together, looking serious, almost scared. Then the boy kissed her. The Banshee wondered idly if it was their first kiss; it seemed like it, for they both appeared a little breathless and giddy when they broke apart._

"Puck, I'm bored with this. Let's go."

_They moved away from the couple and deeper into the woods._

"I guess I shouldn't have woken you. They weren't really all that entertaining."

"It's alright. They were rather sweet in their way, I suppose. But I must say, what with the reputation we've given this place, they can't be too smart to be out here all alone."

"Ah yes, what fools these mortals can be. It _was _kind of sweet though, the two of them. Silly, but sweet." _He stopped suddenly, looking at her. She returned his gaze questioningly._

"What?"

_He glided towards her until they were face to face, and then he leaned in and kissed her. It was nothing much; she felt the brief pressure of his lips on hers, and then he pulled back, looking inquisitive, waiting to see her reaction._

_She put her hand to her lips. _"What … what was that?"

"A kiss."

"Yes, I know that."_ She was beginning to get irritated. _"Why did you do it?"

_He shrugged again. _"I felt like it."

"You – you – what?"_ She fumed. _"You see two silly little mortals in the woods and I tell you to leave them be and you think that means you can kiss me?"

_Puck didn't understand why she was getting so upset. _"What's the matter, you didn't like it?"

"That is not the point!"

_He chuckled. _"Oh, I rather think it is, my little siren."

"Don't call me that!" _She directed a blast of magic at him, which he easily dodged._

"Whoa, was the kiss that bad? Let me try again, I'm sure I can do better –"

"I'm going to make you pay!"

"You'll have to catch me first!" _He flitted away._ _Puck could be very fast when he wanted to, but eventually, she had him in her grasp._

"Now you will suffer," _she hissed at him._

"I'm trembling," _Puck said mockingly. _"What are going to do?"

_She answered him with a kiss of her own, an action which surprised her as much as it did him. This kiss lasted longer than the first, and when it was over, they found that they had wrapped their arms around each other._

_Puck's eyes were wide, and very bright. _"I like this game," _He said softly._ "Even when I lose, I win."

"Puck …"

_He kissed her again, and she could not even pretend to protest, pressing herself to him, feeling the shivers of pleasure as she did._

"I like this game very much," _Puck whispered._ "Don't you?"

"You're … impertinent …"

_He laughed softly, and nuzzled her neck._

"Oh come on, just admit it, you like it as much as I do." _When she was silent, he continued, in a tone that was almost pleading._ "Tell me you like this game. If you don't, I'll stop."

"Puck…" _she sighed, unable for once to snap at him._ "Puck, it's not a …"

_He pulled back, looking at her guilelessly._ "What?"

"I like this," _she admitted._ "I like this … game."

_He smiled at her._ "Good," _he said, kissing her again, and they let the moment carry them away._

"Wake up, shrew."

The Banshee's eyes flew open and she attempted to lunge at Raven, only to find herself restrained.

_Iron? How on earth could he bind me in iron chains without hurting himself?_ But she soon had her answer, spying two mortals nearby. They appeared to be nondescript, except for one significant detail; their eyes glowed red, just as Raven's had done. And above them, still holding the child and looking triumphant, floated Mab.

"You would bring human minions into our conflict, Mab?" She sneered, with far more daring than she felt. "Your son at his worst would not stoop so low."

She expected Mab to get angry, but instead she seemed rather amused, a reaction which was infinitely more frightening than her rage.

"Mortals are pitiful, fragile things, but they can prove useful at times," she retorted smugly. "For instance," she gestured to the Banshee's chains, "Look at you now. Oh, and by the way, does anything about your current predicament strike you as … familiar?"

It was then, to her horror, that the Banshee realized the irons chains bound her to a tree, just as it had been all those centuries ago.

Mab gave her a nasty grin. "Do you remember what comes next?"

Her eyes widened. No. Not even Mab would be that cruel. Not even she would do that to one of her own…

One of the mortals held up an iron plate, and moved toward her.

"No!" She screamed, struggling madly against her bonds.

"There is a way for you to avoid this fate," Mab said calmly as the mortal advanced upon her. "Side with me against Oberon. Think, Banshee. My son has banished you, has muted your powers. Join with me, and you shall have back all that he has taken from you, and more. You can turn all of Ireland into a graveyard if you like. Just agree to fight by my side."

"I will not," the Banshee hissed, fighting her rising panic.

Mab frowned. "Don't be foolish, child. Your loyalty is misplaced. You think the parents of this little babe care at all for your well-being? You were merely a tool to them. Think of what I can offer you. Raven has already seen –"

"Raven has seen nothing but what you wish him to see!" She shrieked. "You have him in thrall, even as you do these men! Raven," she said, addressing him frantically. "I know you have been callous, I know you have been cruel. I can understand that, because I have been those things too. But even at your worst, I know you would not do this to one of your own people. You must fight her influence!" His eyes glowed red at her, and he did not look as if he even realized she was speaking, much less that he was hearing her words.

"Last chance." Mab whispered.

She shook her head. "Raven, please …"

"Very well then, little fool."

The mortal put the iron gag on her, and Raven used his magic to fasten it. As he did so, his eyes briefly returned to normal.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but even if she had been inclined to forgive him, she was no longer capable of a reply.

"Where are we?" Xanatos asked, as they landed on the ground.

"Ireland, I'd wager," Titania said.

"Why here?" Fox asked.

"Mab probably means to make a gift of the island to the Banshee," Titania explained. "No doubt she will offer it to her in exchange for her loyalty."

Xanatos scowled. "Would she accept such a deal?"

"Of course she wouldn't!" Puck snapped. He had never addressed Xanatos in an angry tone, neither in his mortal guise nor out of it, but he did so now. "Don't be stupid, David."

"This is not the time for arguments," Fox interjected. "We need to find Alex."

"Look!" Titania exclaimed. They all turned to see a flash of red light come from a hill above them. She shook her head. "Mab always was careless. Now that she thinks she's winning, she won't even bother to conceal herself, or be on guard for our approach."

"Which means we have the element of surprise," Xanatos said.

"Indeed, David. Follow me, all of you, quietly."

They made their way to the hill, peering out from behind some bushes. Xanatos' eyes darted around, trying to asses the situation. There stood the one called Raven, and two other men. All three sets of eyes glowed an unnatural red. His heart thudded in his chest as he saw Mab above them, clutching his crying son. He was so horrified by this sight that he didn't even notice the Banshee was there, at least not until he heard Puck gasp.

"What?" He whispered.

Looking more stricken than Xanatos had ever seen him, Puck pointed with a trembling hand at a figure chained to a tree – he could only assume the chains were made of iron. He now had a full view of the Banshee, who looked eerily beautiful but infinitely sad. Tears ran down her cheeks, and there was a plate over her mouth, which he could only assume was made of iron as well. He remembered Owen's reaction when he'd told him about the Banshee being gagged; as Puck, he looked even more upset now than he had been then.

"We have to help her!" Puck made to move forward, but Xanatos held him back.

"We need to be smart about this," he said, taking care to keep his voice low.

Puck quickly realized the man had a point. "Right," he muttered almost apologetically.

"Those two men beside Raven are mortals," Titania whispered. "Mab is controlling them, but I believe I can remedy that. Follow my lead." She waved her hand, and suddenly, the two men's eyes were glowing green as they advanced upon Mab, who shrieked indignantly, releasing the child to unleash her fury on them.

"Alex!" Fox screamed, diving for her son.

Where the two men had stood, there were now only piles of ash. Mab turned to Titania, her face lit up with malice. "You think your can try your little tricks on me? You who would dare to call yourself Queen of Avalon? Do you forget how powerful I am?"

To prove her point, she struck Titania down, once again rendering her unconscious.

At that moment, Xanatos began firing his gun, and Mab screamed out in agony as the iron bullets sunk into her skin. He didn't stop firing until he'd emptied the clip, and then he dug in his pockets, frantically trying to reload. Near him, now on the ground, Mab was moaning, beginning to pick out the bullets one by one, unable to remove them with magic.

"Take care of them, Raven," she croaked. He moved to obey, but Fox directed a blast of magical energy at him, and he reeled back. Before she knew what she was doing, she had recited a spell.

"_I realease you from Mab's dreadful geas,_

_Do as you will, and as you please!"_

Raven's eyes cleared of the red haze, and he staggered backwards, looking dazed. Mab gave a muted cry of frustration, removing the last bullet from her chest and springing up to face them. "Raven, do not listen to Titania's brat. I promised that you would be rewarded if you served me!"

"You didn't give me a choice!" Raven snapped.

"You have a choice now," Mab retorted. "Help me defeat them, and you shall have free reign of Queen Florence Island. You can drive all the mortals away, just as you've always wanted!"

For a moment, Raven looked like he was seriously considering the offer. Then he gave Mab his trademark sneer.

"Sorry," he said. "But that place no longer amuses me. And neither to do you!" He shot a blast of magical energy at her, which was quickly accompanied by one from Fox, Puck, and a newly revived Titania. Xanatos fired more bullets into her, and she screamed, writhing in agony. Even so, she still mocked them.

"Go on, keep it up," she managed to get out. "I will still be able to fight long after you are spent. I am more powerful than all of you combined." It was then that Titania cast a summoning spell.

"_Protectors of those I hold dear,_

_Come to this hill to aid us here!"_

There was a flash of light, and the Manhattan Clan appeared.

"Help us!" Fox screamed as Mab managed to direct a volley at her. She fell to the ground, her child slipping from her arms.

"Alex!" Lexington cried, diving down. He caught the child, and Fox scrambled to her feet and over to them. Puck used his magic to a place a protective barrier around the three of them. The rest of the gargoyles were currently rushing Mab.

Puck's eyes fell on the Banshee, who was still chained to the tree. The iron meant he couldn't do anything to set her free. "Someone release her, please!"

Angela swooped down from overhead. Landing by the tree, she didn't even hesitate, but instantly broke the Banshee's chains. When she caught sight of the plate over her mouth, however, she paused, uncertain of what to do.

"Puck," she called, "How do I –?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" He cried, ducking to avoid Mab's magic. Her spell hit the barrier he'd made, and it shook, but did not break.

Unable to think of anything else, Angela put her hands on the Banshee's face. "This might hurt, I'm sorry." She fastened her talons on the plate and began pulling it off. The Banshee cried soundlessly in pain, but tried not to move, and eventually Angela had pried the awful thing away from her face.

The Banshee staggered and fell to her knees, clutching her throat. She gasped and coughed, trying desperately to breathe again. She looked up, intending to express her gratitude to her unlikely rescuer, but found to her horror that she could not make a sound.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked, but the Banshee could not answer.

"Puck," Xanatos grabbed his arm, while Mab was busy reeling from Titania's renewed attack. "Her voice is still a weapon, isn't it? Why doesn't she use it, why doesn't she scream?"

He shook his head. "David, you know how iron weakens us! It takes time to recover."

"We don't have time!" He shouted, ducking a blast from Mab. "And I'm out of bullets! What would make her recover faster?"

"Well, maybe if she got angry …"

"So get her angry then!"

And for an instant, despite the dire seriousness of the situation, Puck's eyes lit up, sparking with mischief, and he grinned. "I know just the thing."

He disappeared and then reappeared beside the Banshee.

And then he leaned in and kissed her, right in the middle of the battle, right in front of everyone.

When he pulled back, she glared at him and let out a scream.

Even though Oberon had muted her powers, her voice was still an impressive thing. Mortal and fay alike staggered backwards in the wake of the sound, covering their ears, cowering down.

"You _did_ say she could only maim with her voice now, right?" Fox managed to call out to her mother.

"How dare you?" The Banshee hissed at Puck when she ended her scream.

"Hey it worked, didn't it?"

Mab lay on the ground, unmoving. For a moment it seemed the battle was won. But then she eased herself up, and staggered to her feet. Fair folk and mortals alike shuddered as she spoke, in her voice of stone.

"You cannot defeat me."

An unmistakable figure suddenly appeared in their midst. "Perhaps not, mother. But I can."

Oberon, the Lord of Avalon, stood before them, looking grim but determined. Mab scowled.

"So, my treacherous son shows his face at last. Come to tear my heart out again, have you?"

"I never wanted to hurt you, mother," Oberon said, sounding almost sad. "I only knew I had to stop your madness."

"I gave you life!" Mab shrieked. "And you went against me to protect the _mortals_!"

"It wasn't just about the mortals, and you know it! Your insanity would have destroyed us all!" And with that, he directed his own magics at her.

Mab, weakened by iron, the battle, and her long imprisonment, could not stand against him. Eventually, she collapsed under the weight of the weight of his spell, sinking to the ground.

Oberon stood over here. "I bind you, Mab, from doing harm."

"No!" Mab shrieked. Gold chains appeared, and wrapped themselves around her, glowing with her son's magic.

"I bind you, Mab, from doing harm." He repeated, and the chains tightened.

"Don't do this to me, my son," she pleaded, her voice growing weaker. "Not again! I made you. I loved you. Don't make me face eternity alone."

Oberon's eyes filled with tears, but his voice remained steady. "I bind you, Mab, from doing harm. I return you to your prison, there to dwell forevermore, for the safety of all the peoples of all the three races on the earth."

With a final cry, Mab disappeared. Oberon fell to his knees, his head in his hands. Even after all she had done, he had not relished defeating her again. Titania rushed over to comfort him.

Puck quickly flitted over to Alexander, soothing the little boy's cries. "He's fine," Puck declared. Lexington smiled in relief, and then went to check on the rest of his clan. Xanatos went over to his wife and child.

"Everyone okay? Are you alright, Puck?" He asked.

The fay laughed weakly. "I'm okay. But I'm afraid Owen won't be available for oh, say the next century or so, because I plan to sleep until then. That all right with you, David?"

"Unacceptable. I expect to see bright and early for work tomorrow morning. Is that clear?"

"Slave driver."

"And how's your friend?" He nodded towards the Banshee. Now that they both turned to look, it appeared Angela was having to physically restrain her from attacking Puck. They couldn't quite make out exactly what she was saying, but Xanatos was almost certain he heard the word "impertinent" (and perhaps several more colorful phrases) mixed into her angry tirade.

"I think she's really mad at you."

Puck giggled. "I know, isn't it great?"

"You really enjoy getting a rise out of her, don't you?"

From where he was floating in mid-air, Puck leaned down towards Xanatos, his eyes sparkling. "Do you want to know a secret? Sometimes I think there is no better fun in all the world."

"You love her."

He didn't think he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing Puck, in any form, look as completely shocked as he did now. For a moment there was something almost like fear in those fathomless blue eyes. But he recovered quickly enough, donning an almost-convincing expression of amused condescension.

"Oh come on now David, that's just silly. Don't get me wrong, romance is a fine thing for you mortals to indulge in, and it's often provided me with some great entertainment. Some of us fay even like to mingle with mortals and dabble in that quaint little concept, resulting in amusing surprises like you lovely wife here. But the simple truth is that, especially amongst our own, we are simply _beyond_ such things."

"Oh really," Xanatos countered, "then how exactly do you explain Oberon and Titania?" He nodded to where the two stood, holding each other.

"The exception that proves the rule," Puck said smoothly, sounding almost Owen-like for a moment.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're just afraid to admit it, like I was."

"And maybe you're just projecting," Puck snapped, looking downright irritated by now. Despite everything, Xanatos found he couldn't help it; he was enjoying this.

"A bit defensive, aren't we?"

"You know, Davey boy, I do believe this is the first time someone has attempted to psychoanalyze me. And you know what? I don't like it. Not one bit."

Xanatos was about to retort when Oberon suddenly cast a spell over all of them, returning them to the Eyrie Building. As Alexander was now safe, and this was certainly no time for a magic lesson, Puck had no choice but to revert back to Owen. After a moment of confusion, Angela gingerly released the Banshee, who followed suit and reverted to Molly, although Xanatos noticed she continued to glare in their direction.

He raised an eyebrow at his faithful assistant. "'Davey boy?'"

"Sorry sir."

Biting back a grin, Xanatos approached Goliath, who now stood surrounded by his clan, looking weary but none the worse for the wear. "It seems I am even more in your debt than I was before. All of you," he added, looking around at the rest of them. "I guess I'll have to double my efforts to repay you for this latest kindness. I certainly owe you another favor."

"I don't know if I can survive any more of your favors," Goliath said, but there was no real malice in his voice. In fact, there might even have been a hint of wry amusement.

Xanatos smiled. "Even so, I once again owe you a debt of gratitude."

"As do I." They both turned to see Oberon approaching them. Xanatos suppressed a scowl.

"Goliath, you and your clan have helped prevent disaster for us all. I appreciate your aid in stopping Mab. As you see, my mother is dangerous and cruel, and I cannot allow her to be free in the world."

_Yeah well, her son isn't exactly the harmless and sweet type himself._ Xanatos managed to keep from vocalizing the thought, though he felt certain his expression would give him away. But Oberon paid him no mind as he continued.

"Goliath, if there is some wish you have from me, I would grant it."

He expected Goliath to immediately refuse, but for a moment, the gargoyle seemed to be seriously considering it. Xanatos was briefly reminded of when Owen had revealed his true self to him, and offered him the choice of a lifetime of service in his mortal guise, or the granting of a single wish. His own decision hadn't been instantaneous either. Of course, it had been different; he got something either way. Goliath did not.

The gargoyle spoke slowly and carefully, as if weighing each word. "My lord, I learned a long time ago that the phrase 'Be careful what you wish for,' is far more than a mere trite expression. It is a warning, and I heed it. So thank you for the offer, but I must decline."

Oberon nodded, not seeming offended. "Very well. But should we meet again, and should you change your mind, the offer will remain open." He turned away and walked over to Titania.

"Come, my gentle Titania. We will take Raven and go home now. Our work here is done."

"Wait, that's it?" Xanatos was no longer able to restrain himself. "Owen and Molly just helped defeat your insane psychopath of a mother, and you can't even thank them? Meanwhile, the one person that was actually working _with_ her just gets to skip back to Avalon like nothing's happened? What kind of justice is that?"

Oberon turned to him, frowning. "Raven was clearly in thrall," he countered. Behind him, the fay in questioned nodded.

"Yeah, for once in my life, I wasn't the bad guy." He caught Goliath's eye and smirked. "I know, I'm as shocked as you are, but there it is. Frankly, I don't think I'll ever live it down."

"Fine," Xanatos allowed. "But that doesn't change the fact that the two of them deserve some sort of recognition." He gestured over in their direction. Molly had finally stopped glaring at Owen, and now they were both looking at Oberon with vaguely apprehensive expressions.

Oberon's frown deepened. "Do _not _presume to tell me how to govern my own people."

Xanatos was on the brink of an angry reply when Titania interjected.

"David," she said, with a gentle warning in her voice, and he stayed silent. She then turned to Oberon.

"He may no be able to presume, my husband, but I flatter myself that I may. Perhaps it _is _something to think about. You banished them and altered their powers because they disobeyed you, because they showed you disloyalty. Surely, tonight's battle shows that they have at least learned something from their mistakes. Is such behavior not worthy of rewarding, my lord?"

Oberon appeared to be considering her words. "You make your point quite eloquently, my queen. Very well. We shall consider this matter and return with our decision in an hour's time – which would be one of your days. Watch for us at the next sunset." And with that, the rulers of Avalon, along with Raven, promptly disappeared.

"Thank you, sir." Owen said quietly, suddenly appearing beside him. He sincerely doubted Oberon would reconsider any part of the punishment he had visited upon either of them, but even so, he appreciated the gesture.

Xanatos smiled, and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's the least I can do. For both of you."


	10. Chapter 10

Siren Song

Chapter 10: Resolutions

"You dare laugh at the Banshee? – _The Banshee, in "The Gathering, Part I."_

_When Oberon and Titania returned to Avalon, all of the Children murmured curiously amongst themselves – all except the Banshee, of course, who was currently incapable of making any kind of sound. But she, like the rest of them, had fully expected the Lord of Avalon to return with a wayward and chastened Puck in tow._

_Although it had only been minutes for them, she knew that Oberon had spent several hours in the mortal world, more than long enough for that awful beast to help him track Puck down. The agony of being gagged was almost forgotten for a moment, as she regarded the rulers of Avalon with confusion. Titania's expression was hard to read, but Oberon looked most seriously displeased, which was never a good sign._

_With a gesture of his hand, all of the Children fell silent. And it was then that Oberon explained what had happened. In a booming voice, he announced Puck's punishment: Eternal banishment from Avalon._

_There were several different reactions among the assembled. The Weird Sisters, for their part, looked smug, probably thinking it was about time the trickster was caught in his own net. They were not the only ones; Puck had always loved to make mischief for his fellows, just as he did for mortals, and he had his enemies among them._

_But he also had his friends. Coyote for one looked particularly dejected; she was certain he had been counting on Puck's presence to keep Avalon from getting too boring. Anansi shook his massive head, in either disbelief or disapproval, or both. Raven simply looked stunned, as if completely unable to process the information. _

_He was not the only one who was shocked, for all knew that the Puck had always been one of Oberon's favorites, and had once been his personal servant. While the talk was that the Lord of Avalon had grown frustrated with the little trickster as of late, not one among the fay, whether they liked Puck or not, had expected anything like this._

_To be banished forever … to never know home again …_

_The Banshee shrank away from the crowd. Eventually, she found herself curled up in a dark corner. The pain of her gag, combined with her distress over Puck's absence, left her completely and utterly miserable._

_For the next few days, she was left pretty much alone. But occasionally, someone might come over and mock her for her enforced silence, or for missing Puck, or both._

"Cat got your tongue?" _Raven sneered. This earned him a death glare from the Banshee. He laughed cruelly, but he still backed away, and he didn't even mention Puck to her._

_The Weird Sisters were another matter. During the first few hours of what they termed her "sulk," they seemed to take great delight in gliding over every few minutes and deriding her. Seline especially relished this._

"You've no tales to tell now, have you little siren?" _Seline gloated, floating above her._ "Little siren. That was what your dear Puck always called you, wasn't it? Does your heart break for him now, knowing he will never return home again? Perhaps you would feel better if you gave voice to your grief … oh wait, that's right, you can't."

_Mercifully, Titania intervened and put a stop to this. On the third day, Oberon himself approached her. She could do nothing but look up at him with pleading eyes, unable to speak the words that burned in her throat. _

_Oberon contemplated her for a moment, and then said, _"I believe your newfound humility suits you." _He pointed his finger, and a flash of magic sprang towards her, removing the gag from her mouth. He stood back as she gasped and coughed, giving her a moment to recover. She was surprised he had lifted her punishment so quickly. She knew she should have been grateful._

"What say you now, Banshee? You will stand and address your lord and master."

_The Banshee stood. She looked him straight in the eye, and then said, in a clear, steady voice which echoed through the hall:_ "You shouldn't have banished Puck."

_The Lord of Avalon gave her a look of complete shock, which was quickly replaced by anger. _"What?"

"All he did was try to keep a child with his family, and you –"

"You would question _my _judgments? Puck disobeyed my laws!"

"Why shouldn't he, when you don't even follow them yourself! How is trying to take a child from his parents not interfering in human affairs? You're nothing but a hypocrite!"

"How _dare_ you –"

"It's not right, it's not fair!"

"Silence!" _Oberon roared, and indeed, the great hall fell deathly quiet. The Banshee trembled, hardly believing what she had just done._

"Everyone, leave!" _He bellowed, and all of the fair folk hastily scurried away. Only Titania remained, moving to stand by her husband's side._

"What means this outrage, Banshee?"

_She could try to apologize, she supposed. Take it all back, throw herself at his feet and beg for mercy._

_But …_

"It's not right," _she whispered._ "Puck should be here with us. It's not right."

_She expected the Lord of Avalon to rage at her, but strangely enough, he seemed almost moved. _"Would you really risk incurring our wrath, just to defend the Puck?"

"I …"

"Do you love him that much?"

_And although she was no longer gagged, she found herself once again unable to speak. She bowed her head, her eyes filling with tears._

"Then I pity you, my child," _Oberon said softly._ "For I do not think he is capable of returning such feelings. He could never take anything take anything so seriously, not as love demands we must do."

_The tears spilled out and fell down her cheeks._ "I know."

_Oberon's expression hardened. _"If you are so determined to remain loyal to Puck, Banshee, and not to me, then you can share in his punishment."

_And it was then that he passed sentence on her. He had muted her powers, and banished her. But her banishment had not been indefinite; it was just as permanent an exile as Puck's. There had never been the hope of returning home._

_And Puck would_ _never know_, must _never know. About any of it. Besides, Oberon was wrong. She didn't …_

_And even if she did, Puck would never reciprocate. Everything was always just a game to him. If she told him the truth, he would probably just laugh in her face._

_And she could not stand the thought of that._

She wasn't sure why she was doing this.

Molly made her way up the castle parapets, where she knew the gargoyles dwelled. She moved quietly, her eyes darting around. For a moment, their lair appeared to be empty, but then she heard an unmistakable growl. An old and instinctive panic seized her, and she was poised to run, but something inside told her to simply stay still.

The great beast, the one they called Bronx, approached her. Unlike their first encounter, he advanced slowly, though he still looked menacing, snarling and baring his teeth. Finally, he stopped, sniffed the air, and gave her a look she could only describe as evaluating. The thought was so ridiculous that she almost laughed out loud. Instead, she spoke.

"Well come on, then," she said in a surprisingly calm voice. "If you're going to attack me, let's get it over with." Aside from her initial flash of apprehension, she found she wasn't really afraid. After all, she had just been bound and gagged with iron, and threatened by Mab, arguably the most powerful and most insane member of her entire race. Next to that, even the Hound of Ulster seemed little more than a minor inconvenience.

As if he actually understood what she was saying, the beast huffed out a breath, and lowered his head. He seemed rather resigned to her presence, if not pleased by it. She supposed that would do. She didn't plan to stay long, anyway.

"What brings you here, lass?"

She looked up from Bronx to see the older gargoyle – Hudson, was it? – regarding her with a similarly skeptical yet resigned expression.

"I came to see Angela," she said simply.

"Did ye now?"

"Yes." When it became clear that he expected her to elaborate, she continued. "I didn't have the opportunity after the battle to thank her for what she did. You all glided away before I could say anything." Hudson was silent, and she began to feel slightly uncomfortable. "Is she here?"

He finally spoke. "No, she went out with the rest of 'em to go check on Elisa, and tell her what has happened."

"I see. Then excuse me for bothering you."

"It's all right. I'll let Angela know ye came to express your gratitude."

"Thank you." She nodded, and made to leave, only turning at the sound of his voice.

"D'you always have such a temper lass?"

She frowned. "What?"

"Well, Angela did have to hold you back after Puck –"

"Shut up!" She snapped, her cheeks flushing.

Hudson chuckled. "Ah, I can see ye do. Or maybe it's just _him_ that brings it out in you, is it?"

"I didn't come here to discuss … this," Molly said, fighting to keep her voice low and even. Hudson shook his head.

"No, I don't suppose ye did. But I must say, with a temper like that, I'm glad you seem to be on our side now."

Despite herself, a brief smile flickered on Molly's face. "Goodnight then." He nodded.

She descended down the castle stairs and ran straight into Owen.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her. She glared at him.

"I might ask you the same question! Are you following me?"

"When I saw where you were going, I became concerned that you might need –"

"How many times do I need to tell you that I can take care of myself?" She hissed. "Haven't you humiliated me enough for one night? Do you really think you need to follow me around like I'm a child?"

"It was never my intention to humiliate you –"

"To do _that_, in front of everyone!" She fumed. "Why, why did you have to do it?"

"Because it was the only way I could think to get you angry. Because we needed to make use of any and all weapons at our disposal against Mab, and your voice was one of them. Because your embarrassment was insignificant if it meant turning the tide of the battle. And most of all," and here he leaned in, belying all his rationalizations and his stoic façade, his eyes sparking with wickedness, his voice full of glee, "Because it was _fun_."

Molly scowled at him. "Well, you're going to pay dearly for your fun."

"I'm trembling. What are you going to do?"

She kissed him, and he responded, pushing her up against the wall, desperate, clinging to her like a drowning man. Even in this form, all the sensations were familiar, overwhelming, intoxicating. She didn't think, didn't analyze, she just let it happen. She knew it was probably a bad idea, but it felt so good that she just didn't care.

After a long moment, they broke apart, both breathing heavily. As if suddenly remembering, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the flute.

"Here," she managed, shoving it at him. "Titania wanted me to give this to you."

She knew he'd be pleased, and his focus on the flute served as an adequate distraction for her to slip away.

"When did she give you –" He turned back to her, only to find that she was gone. Of course, she had probably just transported herself away, since she could still use her magic whenever she pleased. After the night's battle, it would have taken a lot out of her, but she must have thought it was worth it. She had to still be somewhere in the castle; he supposed he could go looking for her, but honestly, this mortal body of his was quite exhausted. Still, he felt rather frustrated, though he couldn't help but admire the cleverness of her distraction.

"And here I thought I was supposed to be the trickster," he muttered to himself with a weary smile.

In an hour or so, it was dawn, and although Xanatos had joked about seeing him bright and early in the morning, in truth, all those involved in the battle were thoroughly exhausted, and did little else but sleep and rest throughout the day. They gathered near sunset to await the return of Avalon's rulers.

"Are you nervous?" Fox asked Molly kindly as they all stood together. She was holding her son in her arms.

Molly shrugged. "Not really. Either things will get better, or they will stay the same. At least they won't get any worse."

"I suppose that's a good way of looking at it."

"I thought so. And um …" Molly began hesitantly. "I never got to tell you I was sorry about your father."

Fox smiled sadly. "Thank you. Honestly, I really haven't had time to process it myself, with everything that's happened. I feel a bit overwhelmed."

"That's understandable. And I must say, you handled yourself quite well during the battle."

"Well, I had a good teacher." Before Molly could minimize, she continued. "You know, if you _were_ to return to Avalon, we'd miss you here."

Molly suddenly felt a lump in her throat, even as she cursed her mortal form for its foolish tendency towards sentimentality. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Of course, Owen would miss you the most."

Molly waved her hand dismissively. "He would miss the amusement I provide, I'm sure."

Fox shook her head. "You really think that's all you are to him? An amusement?"

"Try to understand. I have known him a very long time, far longer than any of you. Despite the somber demeanor he might put on in his current guise, I can assure you that it's all just a game to him. Puck could never truly take anything seriously."

Fox looked down at Alex, who was gurgling happily in her arms. "But there's where you're wrong. If I thought he was incapable of taking anything seriously, I would never trust him with my son."

It hadn't occurred to her to look at things that way. Before she could respond, Titania was suddenly before them.

"Where's Oberon?" Xanatos asked.

"He has sent me to convey his judgment," Titania said.

Fox scowled. "After all that they've done, Oberon couldn't even be bothered to tell them in person?" Not that she relished his presence anywhere near her son, but still.

"My lord is occupied with more important matters."

"Such as?" Xanatos prompted.

Titania frowned, and there was a hint of annoyance in her voice as she continued. "Such as determining precisely how Mab escaped her prison and enthralled Raven, and making sure that nothing like this happens again. I trust you understand that such things would take priority over uttering a simple decree."

They fell silent then, and she continued. "The judgment of my lord and husband is as follows. Puck: your powers are to be restored to you." She held up her hands, and a green glow surrounded Owen as she continued. "No longer will the use of your magic be limited to the training and protection of my grandson. Such is your reward for your aid in the battle against Mab."

Owen immediately reverted to Puck, and spun around excitedly, looking pleased. Titania then turned to Molly, repeating the ritual on her.

"Banshee: you also will be restored to your full power, with Oberon's thanks, and mine, for protecting my family and teaching my daughter."

Following his lead, Molly turned into her true self, relishing the return of her full abilities, feeling stronger than she had in quite a while. Titania smiled at both of the newly restored Children.

"What about their banishments, mother?" Fox asked. "Will they ever be allowed to return to Avalon?"

The queen's smiled faltered somewhat. "Oberon has held firm on that matter, I'm afraid." When both Fox and Xanatos began to protest, she held up a hand. "Please try to understand. My lord has been as generous as he can be at this time. Do not lose hope," she said, now addressing the two fay. "I may someday be able to convince him to lift the banishment as well. After all, forever is a very long time."

She approached her daughter, her arms outstretched. After all that happened, Fox could not find it in herself to rebuff her, and Titania embraced both mother and son. "I'm proud of you," she whispered. "Continue in your lessons. You have more power, more magic in you than you realize, even now."

Titania released her daughter, and turned the Banshee. "Child, you really need to tell the truth now, about your own exile."

The Banshee gasped. "My queen, I thought you would respect –"

"I'm sorry, but I have had enough of secrets. I see now that I can no longer deceive my daughter, not if I wish to remain a part of her life. If you won't tell, I will." When the Banshee remained silent, she turned the rest of them.

"The part about her initial punishment being silence was true," she began. The Banshee readied herself to scream, desperate to stop this, but with a wave of Titania's hand, she was unable to do so. "However, the rest of the story I told you was not entirely accurate. My husband removed the gag after only a few of our days, because he believed that she had displayed adequate humility. Imagine my lord's surprise when, instead of being greeted by her meek gratitude, she declared in front of everyone how wrong Oberon had been to banish Puck. It was then that my lord and husband permanently exiled her and reduced her powers." As she finished, Titania released the Banshee from her spell.

"This is not fair!" The Banshee screamed. "After all I have done – that was not your truth to tell –"

"Why would you do that?"

She turned to Puck, who was staring at her in total disbelief. "Why would you risk losing home, just to speak for me?"

"Why do you think?" She whispered. "What would the paradise of Avalon be without you?"

"You … you shouldn't have lost Avalon. Not for me. To speak against Oberon's will … it was foolish."

The Banshee let out a bitter laugh. "Indeed it was, and I am a fool. I see that now," she said, and promptly disappeared.

"Wait, wait! Little siren, I didn't mean –" He turned and glanced back over at the Xanatos family.

Fox nodded. "It's all right, go and find her. We'll be fine for now." And with that, Puck vanished as well.

He found her in their forest. She couldn't have been trying very hard to hide from him if she'd come here. At least, he told himself, that was something.

She stood there, beautiful and somber. Her eyes were downcast, and she did not look up at his approach.

"I … I don't really think you're a fool," he said softly.

She shook her head. "But I am. Who else but a fool would fall in love with a trickster?" There, she had said it, just like that. No point in denying it anymore, not now. She steeled herself against his laughter, his amusement, his derision.

But Puck was silent. She felt him move beside her, felt his hand on her own. "Look at me, little siren. Please look at me."

She turned then. "Don't call me that –"

He cut her off with a kiss, and she couldn't bring herself to pull away. "I love you too," he whispered in her ear. But she shook her head.

"No Puck, don't … don't do that. Don't try to placate me. This isn't a trick, this isn't a game."

"No, it's not. It's just the truth. I love you. I love making you laugh, even though it is so rare when I do. I love making you angry, because your rage means that I must matter to you. And you know I will always think that teasing you is the best fun in all the world! You are stubborn and strong and untamable and proud, and I could not stand to do something as ridiculous as falling in love if it were with anyone else but you. My little siren," he added with a smirk.

"How … how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that! Oh Puck, you are _impossible_."

He grinned. "But you love me anyway."

"Yes, you idiot, I do."

"Well then." Puck paused. "This doesn't mean I have to get you flowers, does it? Or chocolates? I don't have to buy a ring and get down on one knee, do I? Because –"

She kissed him fiercely and intensely, drawing him to her as if she could never get him close enough.

"Hush," she breathed. "Hush, my dear one, just hush."

For once, Puck listened to her. They lost themselves in each other, and, as they had not done for centuries, they let the moment carry them away.

*Author's Note: Well, looks like this turned out to be the last chapter, although I may do an epilogue. I've honestly had some variation of this story dancing around in my head since the show was on the air. For some weird reason, I've always wanted to pair these two characters. So thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story, and nobody came off too OOC.

Puck: That was the last chapter? Yeesh, was that mushy.

Me: What do you want? It was a romance fic.

Puck: I don't _do_ romance.

Me: You do now. *bats eyelashes* Besides, you're just so darn cute, it kind of writes itself.

Puck: *grumbles* Stupid fangirl.

Me: Oh come on, you had fun. And hey, I gave you all your powers back! That's got to count for something, right?

Puck: Whatever. Just tell them to review this thing, will you? Or I'll turn them into pink bunnies. Or dust bunnies. Or maybe even plot bunnies. I haven't decided yet.

Me: Well, you heard him, folks.


	11. Epilogue

Siren Song

Epilogue: Dreams

"… I'm going to need a very long nap." – _Puck, in "The Mirror."_

"Not long now."

Molly spoke quietly. She, Fox, Owen, and Alexander, along with his wife and children, were all gathered by the bedside of David Xanatos. While never having achieved his dream of immortality, he had, among his many other accomplishments, lived to see his one hundredth birthday, and beyond. But even he could not defy fate. Molly had known his death was coming, and she had warned him to be ready, just as she had warned him years ago about his own father's death, affording him the opportunity to say goodbye. Unlike the mortals all those centuries ago, the Xanatos family did not resent or misunderstand her talent; rather, they valued her place in their lives and respected all of her abilities, including this one.

Fox wiped away a tear and glanced out the window. "It's almost sunset," she remarked. "The clan should be here soon."

Over the years, the relationship between the Xanatos family and the Manhattan Clan of gargoyles had grown strong. Part of the reason was due to the eventual success of the Restoration Project, which had allowed the Mutates to return to their original human selves. Among them of course was Elisa Maza's brother, Derek, also known as Talon. Since Elisa was so beloved of the clan (and of Goliath in particular), it had gone a long way to mending fences. Then of course, there had been all that business with Coldstone, Coldfire, and Coldsteel. Working together, the fay and part-fay members of the family had been able to use magic to turn each of them into living, breathing gargoyles, rather than machines. Of course, it was then up to the clan to defeat the evil one, which proved to be a bit trickier than anticipated, but over all, the gargoyles had been grateful.

They had also been grateful for Xanatos' protection and advocacy when the existence of gargoyles had become common knowledge in the world. Xanatos would not live to see the Gargoyle Rights Amendment passed, but everyone was fairly certain that it would go through in a few months' time.

For all his good deeds towards them, however, Xanatos still remained himself, a schemer, a game player, a trickster: it had been the reason Puck had been drawn to him in the first place. But he was also a family man, and as generous to his friends as he was dangerous to his enemies.

Speaking of friends…

The gargoyles entered the room. Their numbers had grown, although one was missing; Hudson had passed a few years ago, something which she had helped prepare them for. The great beast Bronx had also died, and Molly, to her own surprise, had taken no pleasure in or relief from his death. But there were others now who had joined the family: Brooklyn's mate Katana, their beast Fu-Dog, and the hatched eggs of the clan: Artus, Gwenyvere, Lancelot, Nashville, and Tachi.*

As if their entrance were a cue, Xanatos spoke. "I see everyone's here. Hmm. I feel like I should say something really profound right now." He took a painful breath.

"So, does anyone think my tombstone should read, 'Most brilliant man who ever lived'? Because I have to say, I kind of like the sound of that."

"Oh David," Fox said, laughing and crying at the same time.

"I see even death cannot humble you, my friend," Goliath said.

"Did – did you hear that? Fox, Alex, did you hear that? He called me 'friend.' I have witnesses – Owen, are you taking notes? Tell me you got that …" he laughed, and then began to cough. His wife stroked his face, muttering an incantation, and his coughing ceased.

"It hasn't been long enough," he said softly. "Not nearly long enough. There's so much more I want to do… oh, to be immortal …"

"Immortality has its price, sir," Owen said softly. "Sometimes it means you have to watch your friends die."

Xanatos smiled weakly. "Speaking of immortals, I'd like to see two of my friends as they really are."

With that, both disguised fay reverted to their true forms.

"That's better. I hope someday you find your way home. Owen … Puck … I never told you … how sorry I was … I never meant …"

"It's alright, Davey boy," Puck said. "I made my choices, and I live with them. Besides, it hasn't been so bad in the mortal world." He glanced over at the Banshee, smiling and slipping his hand into hers.

"Take care of them, will you? All of them. My wife, my family, my friends… even if you get back to Avalon, you will check in on them every now and then, won't you? Make sure they're all right?"

"Always," Puck promised.

"Always," Banshee echoed.

"Fox, Alex, I love you so much …"

"I love you too dad," Alex said, his voice breaking.

"We all love you, David," Fox said. "Sleep now. Dream now. We'll see you on the other side."

David Xanatos died peacefully during the night, in his home, surrounded by those he loved. He was 106 years old. He left the majority of his wealth to his wife and son, but also bequeathed gifts to the Manhattan Clan, and his two loyal employees and friends, Owen Burnett and Molly O'Riordan.

It would be many, many years yet before Fox died, thanks to her half-magic heritage. Indeed, she found eventually she had to disappear, because her longevity was starting to raise suspicions, although she was still able to maintain frequent contact with her loved ones. Titania even convinced Oberon to allow her to visit Avalon from time to time.

Owen and Molly were afforded no such luxury. They remained with Alexander and his family, fulfilling much the same roles for him that they had for his father, helping him in his role as CEO of Xanatos Enterprises. Very soon, they would be required to take on new mortal identities if they wished to continue, having allowed their current guises to age naturally.

And they would continue to serve the Xanatos family, and to be part of it, until they were called home, if they were ever called home at all. The Banshee had not attached herself to a mortal family like this since ancient times, and Puck had never attached himself, period, but things had changed for both of them.

They still missed Avalon, of course, but it was never unbearable, because they had a family. They had a place in the mortal world. And of course, they had each other. It was enough to sustain them.

Many nights now, as their true selves, they floated above the castle that rose above the clouds, watching the mortals, their mortals, protecting, guiding, teaching, and dreaming, always dreaming, of some day returning to Avalon.

"I love you, little siren."

"Don't call me that, Puck. And I love you too."

*The names of Brooklyn's mate, his gargoyle beast, and the hatched eggs of the clan are all taken from the Gargwiki site. The first three listed hatchlings are the biological offspring of Broadway and Angela; the final two belong to Brooklyn and Katana.


End file.
